


Shadow Balance

by Lethotep



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Angst, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Crossover, Drama, Friendship, Gen, I'll add more tags later, Manga Based, Mental Health Issues, Plot, Shadow Realm, Shadow magic, Soul Magic, Violence, anime only events not necessarily treated as canon, character tags only refer to main characters in story, long fic, many other minor characters, post-millennium world, rambling explanations about magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2018-04-08 01:57:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 64,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4286250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lethotep/pseuds/Lethotep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after Millennium World. After the destruction of the Millennium Items, Yugi and Ryou no longer have the spirits, but it seems their souls have merged, balancing them between light and dark as individuals, giving Ryou some of the personality traits and skills from the Tomb Robber.</p><p>Since the Pharaoh's name has been revealed, the shadow magic is no longer sealed. Ryou finds he is able to use the shadows without the ring, as do the former bearers and those with a link to the ancient past.</p><p>Ryou decides to return to England for closure over Monster World incidents that had taken place there before he moved to Domino. While travelling around England, he runs into new problems in the form of the modern magical world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. DJED – STABILITY

This is a story that begins with goodbyes.

The gang was together for what could be the last time. All of them together in Egypt. The Ceremonial Duel between Yugi and Atem had been only weeks before, and since then they had spent the time sightseeing around Luxor. Marik and Rishid had been showing them around. Occasionally Isis would join them, but usually she was working.

 

Jou had been pick-pocketed twice since they’d arrived, much to his annoyance. Although to the surprise of everyone, it turned out Ryou had been the one who’d done it the second time.

 

“Look, Jou, I’m sorry!” Ryou pleaded, at his angry friend, “You just made it too easy – I mean, it was just sticking out your pocket in plain sight!”

 

Ryou felt so confused. Ever since the Items had been destroyed he’d felt… different. The others had noticed too. They didn’t say anything, but he could tell what they thought.

 

They thought the spirit was back in him again.

 

That was silly though. The spirit was gone, along with the Pharaoh. He was just… becoming more like him. It was the same with Yugi, but since he and the Pharaoh had been so similar by the end of things – at least in comparison to the spirit and Ryou – it was difficult to tell.

 

“Bakura! You shouldn’t have taken it anyway!” Anzu scolded. “Jounouchi had his wallet stolen once before, he’s just lucky Marik managed to grab the guy the first time. You shouldn’t have made him panic like that!”

 

Ryou blushed and looked down. He _had_ let Jou get rather frantic before revealing he had the wallet. He was about to apologize when Marik cut in.

“Jounouchi should have been more careful.” He stated rather mildly, “He’s lucky it was only Bakura, or he might have lost his passport. Jou should keep a better eye on his things, and I only hope this will have taught him a lesson – since it’s obvious the first time wasn’t warning enough.”

Jou looked abashed at this, and shot Bakura an apologetic look.

Ryou looked at Marik in surprise, not having expected to find any assistance.

 

“Marik has a point.” It was Yugi. He was standing regally, in a stance reminiscent of the Pharaoh, but his violet eyes were soft and his features kind.

 

“Jou was being careless, and Bakura did give it back,” Yugi sighed, “So let’s please forget about this. We only have today left all together , let’s not spoil it.”

It was true. They’d come to Egypt at the end of the school year, after graduation.

Tomorrow Anzu would be flying straight to New York. She’d gotten a full scholarship to a dance school there.

Yugi would be staying in Egypt for another month. Isis had asked him to stay with the Tomb Keepers clan for a while before he went to university to study Egyptology.

Ryou found it strange that Yugi was going to study Egyptology. He probably knew more than most professors, at least on certain topics.

 

Jou was trying to join the Domino Police Academy, and was planning on applying when he got back in a few weeks. That’s probably what made him so upset about being the one to get pick-pocketed twice, since that was a job where he’d have to keep his wits about him.

It was strange thinking of Jou as a cop. He’d been in a gang when he was younger, but at the same time he was trustworthy and honest. He was probably trying to be a better role model for his sister, or trying to impress Mai. Maybe even both. 

Honda was also going to university. He was going to study Political Science at Domino University. He’d surprised everyone by saying he wanted run for local office eventually.

Otogi was taking over ownership of the Black Crown game store his father had started now that he’d graduated, and was planning a nationwide chain of stores in conjunction with KaibaCorp.

Seto and Mokuba, of course had KaibaCorp to get back to. Kaiba had mellowed out considerably since the day he showed up, right after the Ceremonial Duel. But he was still Kaiba, speaking of which…

“OH!” Ryou yelped, “Kaiba and Mokuba are still waiting for us!”

Yugi’s eyes widened in horror, “We were supposed to meet them at the restaurant ten minutes ago!” He squeaked, looking every inch like the innocent Yugi.

“Aw, man! Rich boy’s gonna kill us!” Jou yelled as the gang took off running down the street.

.

.

.  
.

“So, Bakura,” Yugi asked quietly, “Are you really not… coming back to Japan with us?” 

Ryou looked up from his packing. They were back at the hotel. Anzu’s flight was at seven AM, and his was only an hour later. The Kaiba brothers had left on their jet earlier that evening with Otogi for business reasons. Honda and Jou were only catching a flight to Japan next week.

He sighed, and looked at Yugi standing in the door frame.

“It’s true,” he said quietly.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to England, my dad owns a house in a small town called Godric’s Hollow.”

“Why?”

Ryou sighed. He didn’t really know why he was returning there. His father still owned property there, it was true, so at least he would have somewhere to stay. How _long_ he’d actually stay there, he didn’t know.

There were so many memories back there.

So many different towns.

That had been when the spirit was still hiding in him. He hadn’t known about it at the time, but now…

Yes.

He knew why he had to go back there. He needed closure. He needed to make sure all those people were really okay.

He didn’t want to tell Yugi this. Not yet.

“My father wants me to come visit him.” This was a really bad lie. Ryou’s father was in fact right here in Egypt at the moment on a dig with people from his museum. He hoped Yugi wouldn’t see through it though.

“Isn't your father here though?” Yugi asked, confused.

Damn. 

“Oh, yes,” Ryou said, thinking quickly, “He’s working here a bit longer than he intended to, one of the men he works with, Bill, he left unexpectedly to get married and father has to stay for a while to help cover the workload. He didn’t want me to have to wait around, so I’ll be waiting for him at his house.”

Ryou was impressed with himself. He’d managed to tell that lie by simply telling the truth. He was glad he’d paid attention to the call he’d gotten from his father before Ryou had left for Egypt.

Father had been in Egypt during the Dark RPG the spirit had played in the back room of father’s museum in Domino a month ago. Ryou was glad for that. It had taken him days to straighten out the mess and repair the damage, but one evening, the day before Ryou was set to leave for Egypt with his friends, father had called.

Ryou had been surprised to hear from him. Father spent most of his time travelling, but when he wasn’t, he either stayed at their old house in England or in his makeshift room at the museum. Ryou’s own apartment was a small one-bedroomed place where he’d been living alone for the past few years.

His father had told him that he wouldn’t be able to come back to Japan for six months, due to – as Ryou had just told Yugi – one of the men he worked with leaving sporadically over the last few months, just to return unexpectedly with his face scarred to announce he was leaving to get married!

Father had been quite upset, and had told Ryou how unprofessional Bill Weasley had been at great lengths. It was strange, since Ryou’s father had said previously he quite liked the man in the past.

He was probably just upset Bill hadn’t invited him to the wedding, Ryou thought. Especially since father wasn't really the type to care about spending more time away from his son than he already had.

The information had been rather dull at the time, Ryou had only met Bill a few times when he was much younger, so he wasn’t very interested in the man’s business, but it had come in useful now.

During the conversation, Ryou had never once mentioned to his father that he would be in Egypt within the next few days. He didn’t want to bother him.

“Oh.” Yugi said quietly, “Um, Ryou?”

Ryou jerked in surprise, no one ever called him by his first name.

“Y-yeah, Yugi?” he asked quietly.

“Have you noticed the Shadows lately?” Yugi asked in an offhanded sort of way.

 

Ryou started in shock, and blurted out, “Ever since the Duel?”

 

Yugi nodded, “Yeah, it’s strange. It’s like Ya— Atem is still with me. It feels like I still have the Puzzle’s magic.”

 

Ryou nodded in return, “I know, I thought our magic was because of them, but…” Ryou waved his hand, causing the shadows to move in and obscure him from view, making him invisible in plain sight.

“I can do things only… he could do. And the shadows don’t hurt like they used to.” Ryou faded back into sight.

“Yeah,” Yugi said, “I’ve been talking to Isis about it. She has an idea about what might be happening. It’s strange; she said Marik and her have also had some shadow powers return since the Items were destroyed.”

Ryou looked at Yugi in surprise ; Marik hadn’t mentioned anything to him. The two of them were pretty good friends, at least Ryou liked to think so.  They both understood what it was like to be crept around, being treated as if they might suddenly become evil at any given moment, despite the claims of friendship. 

“Isis thinks that it has something to do with us having found the Pharaoh’s name.”

"Of course!" Ryou said, "The Pharaoh's name was used to seal the Shadow magic away, now that the Seal is gone…"

“Those who would have been able to wield the items will have the shadows return to them,” Yugi finished.

Ryou frowned, “Isn’t that dangerous? Having people out there who could be using the Shadows?”

“I asked Isis about that,” Yugi nodded. “She said that only those with a link to the ancient past would be able use the Shadows after it being sealed so long. The Shadows have become choosy over time, it seems. If anyone else tries, they’ll be consumed by them."

Ryou looked relieved. He didn’t want to see people summoning Ka’s all over the place.

“She also mentioned something else,” he said, “about me and you.”

Ryou motioned for him to continue.

“It seems because we’re reincarnations of existing spirits, now that the spirits have passed on, our souls have… kind of merged with our past selves.”

Ryou laughed, “That explains a lot.”

He was relieved to have an explanation at last. He’d been having strange memories pop into his head recently, from periods of his life when the spirit had been in control of his body, and even some from the Tomb Robber’s time in Kemet. They were mostly of more recent years though, and none were really complete.

“The others have noticed something’s off with us.” Yugi agreed, “Um… I was also wondering about that.”

Ryou looked at him.

“Well, the Tomb Robber had a very strong personality. I’m worried it might overwhelm you, and you won’t be you anymore,” Yugi said, his eyes showing his concern.

Ryou shook his head, “No, I don’t think so. I think maybe whoever I become, whoever we become now will be the person maybe we were meant to be. If our past selves hadn’t gotten themselves sealed maybe we would have been like Isis – a full reincarnation.

Our spirits, our Yamis – our Darks, they were a part of ourselves we were missing. We were light without dark; one without the other can’t truly exist. I think… maybe now we’re finally balanced.” As he voiced this out loud, Ryou felt at least some truth in it.

Yugi nodded, “You have a point.” He added thoughtfully, “But keep an eye on yourself anyway, please.”

“I will,” Ryou said. “So, how many people are there who can use the Shadows? That we know of, I mean,” Ryou asked, changing the subject.

“Well, according to Isis, it would be me, you, Marik, Isis herself, a few other people in the Tomb Keeper’s clan, my grandpa – apparently he’s the reincarnation of the vizier Siamun Muran. Oh, and Kaiba.”

Ryou gave a very Tomb Robber-like smirk and said, “Kaiba with magic? I don’t see him taking to that very well.”

Yugi grinned, “Yeah, Isis said to break it gently to him. I’ll probably mention it when I see him in Domino next month.”

“Good luck with that,” Ryou giggled. “I hate to miss that, but…” he sighed. The conversation had gone a full circle and they were back at this again.

“Ryou?” Yugi asked quietly.

“Yeah?”

“After you’ve… visited your father, are you going to come back to Domino? What are you going to do anyway? I mean, you haven’t told anyone what your plans for the future are, or even how long you’ll be gone.”

Ryou was taken aback, “I-I don’t know. I’ll probably talk to father about helping out at his museum I guess. So yes, I suppose I’ll come back to Domino eventually. I don’t know when though.”

Yugi smiled in relief, “Oh, good! I’m glad.”

Ryou looked at the clock, “Oh! It’s almost two AM! I’ve got to finish packing for tomorrow morning!” he yelped.

Yugi also glanced at the clock in shock, “What? I’d better go help Anzu!” he said, blushing as he sped out the door.

 


	2. KHAST: KHEPI – FOREIGN LAND: ENCOUNTER

It was late evening when Ryou's plane landed in London. The trip there had been eventful, with several delays at the airport and him finally having to book another fight for in the afternoon.

 

And the goodbyes from Luxor had been tearful.

.

.

After they'd seen Anzu's flight off, the guys and Isis had gone to a small airport café for a cup of tea while they waited for Ryou's flight to be sorted out.

Yugi's eyes were still red from saying goodbye to Anzu and the gang had an overall air of sadness.

"We'll miss you Bakura." Honda said.

"I won't be gone forever guys, you may even see me before you see Anzu again." Ryou laughed softly.

That probably wasn't true. Anzu would be back in Domino in four months for a few weeks off before she returned to New York and Ryou doubted he'd be returning that soon. He had a lot to do.

"Well, if you're in town give us a ring." Jou said loudly, the wallet incident long forgotten.

"I will."

"And don't forget, we're here if you need us." Yugi said.

"I know. Thanks guys."

 

* * *

 

Ryou stepped out the airport, dragging his trunk with him and carrying a small backpack over his shoulder. He'd forgone using a trolley to move his things since he had an idea he wanted to try.

Ever since the conversation with Yugi, Ryou had been trying to focus more on the Shadows. Unfortunately, being on an airplane wasn't the best position to try magic in.

The whole ride he'd resisted the temptation to test what he could do with the Shadows, worrying mainly about two things; the close proximity of so many people, and the fact that he didn't know what would happen if he tried Shadow magic on a plane.

The first half of the flight he'd wondered if using them would send the plane plummeting into the ground, or into the Shadow Realm if it got out of control, and which would be worse.

A plane wasn't like the blimp, back in Battle City. Plus, on the blimp they'd been on the outside, it wasn't so contained.

He'd decided to focus on something else. Mainly, several… skills he'd developed along with the Shadow powers.

He'd later heard several passengers complaining to the flight attendant that some small valuable items of theirs had gone missing.

He would have made shadow replicas, illusions that would have lasted until he was long gone, but he wasn't going to risk using the shadows on the plane just yet.

Once the plane had landed, however, Ryou had quickly made a small hole in the shadows next to him in which he shoved the passengers' valuables in case he got searched on the way out.

He didn't know if he'd be able to get the things back though, which was what he was planning on testing…

Dragging his trunk to the large airport car park, which was deserted and mainly unlit, he kicked his trunk open and began sorting through things.

He removed anything useful, including a spare change of clothes and his long black trench coat.

It had been the spirits, but Ryou found he quite liked it. The cold English weather was also a factor in taking it of course, especially after just arriving from the heat of Egypt.

He also found the dagger Marik had given him last week.

.

.

 _"_ Hey _Bakura!" Marik yelled._

_Ryou turned around. "Oh, hello Marik."_

_"I've got a goodbye gift for you."_

_"You didn't have to-"_

_"Na, it's cool. It's just,_ remember _back at Battle City?" he asked, looking pointedly at Ryou's arm._

_Ryou shook his head, "Not really. The spirit didn't really let me in on things, although recently I can almost recall parts of my life while he was in control, but only flashes."_

_Marik looked embarrassed at that, "Um, yeah. Well, do you know when I and he made the deal and…"_

_"He stabbed me, yeah." Ryou nodded._

_"Yeah, and then chucked his knife into the ocean. Well, I guess…" He pulled out a small package out of his pocket._

_"It's probably not the most, tactful gift I guess," He_ said, _as if just realizing this, "But I wanted to replace it."_

_Ryou unwrapped the knife. It was small and curved, in a leather sheath. He slipped it out and twirled it. It was well balanced. It really was a very untactful gift, all things considered, RYou thought to himself, but it was a beautiful knife, and he liked it. He was happy._

_"Thanks, Marik."_

.

.

Ryou clipped the knife onto his belt. He was going to be walking around London at night after all.

After he'd taken everything he needed from his trunk he closed it and sat on it.

Focusing in front of him he tried to recall the things he'd sent to the Shadow Realm.

A small hole opened in the Shadows, Ryou focused, telling the Shadows to send the items back through.

Suddenly, with force, wallets, rings and jewellery shot out the hole, hitting him square in the forehead and knocking him over his trunk.

"Ow…" Ryou groaned, sitting up.

"Well, at least it worked." He muttered to himself, "Should probably have been more polite to them I guess." The Shadows could be temperamental he'd just found.

Getting up, he stowed the things in his pockets, emptying wallets of money, he stowed the money before banishing the empty wallets.

No need leaving traceable evidence around.

Looking around, making sure the area was clear; he summoned the shadows around his trunk and let it sink into the Shadows.

Now that he knew he could get his trunk back, there was no point lugging it around when the Shadow Monsters could guard it.

Stretching, Ryou pulled the backpack on and started walking towards the city.

 

* * *

 

Ryou looked around. He'd been walking for who knows how long and was completely lost.

He looked at the street sign on the corner he was on.

Tottenham Court Road.

There were quite a few people on the street, most outside a pub just up the road. Walking up the road slowly, he heard a loud catcall, "Hey girly! Why don't you join us over here?"

Ryou scowled angrily at the drunken men on the opposite side of the road and walked faster.

Ryou noticed a small café. It was open. Gratefully, he turned into it away from the street and the men across the road, hoping to sit for a bit and get his bearings sorted.

It was a dusty place, with only a waitress on duty. Ryou made his way to a booth in the corner. The waitress walked over, chewing gum loudly she took his order.

She returned with his cup of black coffee and a rather stale Chelsea bun. Ryou thanked her and sat quietly, adding sachets of sugar to the coffee.

Sipping slowly, Ryou heard the drunken man yelling again outside, to the laughter of his friends. Ryou scowled and pulled the Shadows around him in his booth instinctively in an attempt to distance himself from the sound.

Just then, the door of the café opened. Ryou looked up warily but saw only two teens about his age, a boy and a girl. They looked harassed and were acting as if they'd just escaped a war. Ryou thought that was a bit of an overreaction to some drunken idiots, but couldn't help watched them quietly from his corner in curiosity.

They made their way to the booth next to his, oblivious to his shadowed presence.

Ryou watched in interest as the red-headed boy paused weirdly before sitting, it almost looked as if he was waiting for someone else to sit first, but the girl was the only person with him, and she was moving to sit on the other side of the booth.

Once the two were sitting, Ryou noticed the girl kept looking over her shoulder, as if expecting an attack at any moment from any direction.

Not being able to resist his intrigued, Ryou shifted around his booth, until he was as close to the two as he could get without giving himself away.

Ryou's breath hitched in his throat.

He felt something strange coming off these people. It felt almost like Shadow magic, only lighter and weaker. A light magic?

Ryou bit his lip, this was worrying. What if more people were affected by the Seal's release than Isis thought?

What if these teens were being affected by its release? Spreading magic where it wasn't supposed to be?

"You know, we're not far from the Leaky Cauldron here, it's only in Charing Cross –" One of the two whispered softly.

Ryou leaned in, hoping to learn more. The Leaky Cauldron? That sounded out of place, he'd never heard of anywhere with a name like that. But he hadn't been to London in years, so he couldn't discount it – no matter how odd it sounded.

"Ron, we can't!" the girl said.

"Not to stay there, but to find out what's going on!" The boy, Ron added on hastily.

Stay there? Was it a hotel? Or maybe an inn with a name like that. They were trying to find out something, something that must have taken place quite recently. Was it the Shadows they were talking about? Maybe the magic around them had been causing problems?

"We already know what's going on! Voldemort's taken over the ministry, what else do we need to know?" This was said in a high strained tone that carried easily to where he was sitting.

Ryou felt a strange surge of magic echo out when she said that strange name. It felt almost like summoning magic, but nothing like Shadow summoning. It felt… strange, in what could not be called a pleasant way under any circumstances.

He had no idea who or what they were talking about now. Surely he would have heard if there was political strife or problems with the British government?

That sort of thing wouldn't stay quiet, and he was sure he would have heard something.

"Okay, Okay, it was just an idea," Ron mumbled, running his hand through his hair distractedly.

The two were quiet again, and soon the waitress came over to take their orders. They ordered two cappuccinos and sat in silence.

Ryou was still trying to decipher the conversation. Did they know they had magic? If so, how was it possible? All magic had been sealed until last month, hadn't it?

He'd go to that place they mentioned and scout it out, Ryou decided, the Leaky Cauldron on Charing Cross. He knew he shouldn't be prying into other people's lives like that, but a feeling deep inside him was stirring. Telling him to take the risk, he was in a place where no one knew him; he should take advantage of that and explore, find things out.

Maybe even do some good...

They'd said the Leaky Cauldron was good for getting information. That would be a good place to start.

He nibbled on his Chelsea bun.

Suddenly, two more people entered the café.

They looked like day labourers, large and bulky. They squeezed into the booth on the other side of the two teens and sat in silence. Ryou glanced around in suspicion. There was that strange magic on them too. What on earth was going on?

The girl had started talking again, whispering again due to the appearance two workmen. Ryou leaned in to listen, catching only half of what she said.

"…Disapparate and head for the countryside. Once we're there, we could send a message to the Order."

"Can you do that talking Patronus thing, then?" the boy – Ron, said.

"I've been practising, and I think so." The girl said nervously.

"Well, as long as it doesn't get them into trouble, though they might've been arrested already." He said dejectedly, picking up his warm cup, "God that's revolting!" he said, making a face while sipping his cappuccino.

The waitress shot him a dirty look from where she was, stalking across the room towards the new arrivals before asking the two men what they wanted. They shook her away, and she huffed off.

The two teens were getting restless, and after only a minute, Ron spoke up,"Let's get going then; I don't want to drink this muck. Hermione, have you got Muggle money to pay for this?"

Muggle money? Ryou mused in puzzlement.

The girl replied in affirmative and reached for a small beaded bag at her side.

Suddenly, the two men moved identically, pulling something from their pockets and diving towards the teens.

Ron yelled as he lunged across the table and pulled the girl – Hermione, sideways onto the floor.

Ryou yelped in shock as the wall above him exploded. Any sound he made went entirely unnoticed as the waitress shrieked and ducked down next to a table. Ryou moved backwards deeper into the booth and pulled the shadows around him close as he watched the struggle unfold.


	3. BINU – ENEMIES

.

.

Ryou watched in amazement as coloured lights flew across the room, when suddenly a disembodied voice yelled out in the confusion.

 

 “Stupefy!”

 

A red light burst out of nowhere and hit one of the men in the face. He fell over and Ryou wondered vaguely if he was dead.

 

The other man pointed what could only be called a wand at the redheaded boy – Ron, he remembered - and shot ropes from the tip that wove around and tied him up, causing him to fall heavily to the floor.

 

There was another flash of red light heading towards the man, following another disembodied yell. It missed, and Ryou dove to the side as it shot directly towards him.

 

The sudden jolt as he dove to the floor made him drop the Shadows, just as the waitress was hit by another rebounding red light as she was attempting to edge to the back.

 

One of the men yelled something and a table exploded, sending splinters across the room that imbedded themselves deep into whatever they hit. Ryou pulled up a quick shield from a shadow he was laying near, nothing near as powerful as Mirror Force, but he didn’t have time to reach his deck before being skewered.

 

Against the opposite wall, another boy, this one with black hair and glasses, had appeared seemingly from nowhere, having been slammed by the explosion. A little blood was oozing from several small cuts the boy had gathered from the exploded wood shards. The man smirked and started walking towards the boy meaningfully.

 

“Petrificus Totalus!” Ryou had forgotten about the girl, Hermione in the confusing battle. So had the last man, judging from the surprise in his eyes as he attempted to whirl towards her in time.

 

The spell hit the man dead on and he collapsed to the floor. With a quick gulp, the girl moved towards Ron and quickly cut him free with a quick spell. The other boy took this time to move to the side from where he’d fallen and grab the wand he’d dropped after being flung across the room before moving towards the remaining two standing.

 

Now Ryou was a calm person. He rarely raised his voice, and he could count the amount of times he’d sworn on one hand. This was discounting the spirit of course, who was _technically_ a part of him, but he didn’t feel the need to add that. This however, he felt deserved some form of vulgarity.

 

“What the _hell_ just happened?” It wasn’t much, but it made him feel somewhat better.

 

The two – three teens spun around to face Ryou, who was sitting on the floor, hair and shoulders covered in plaster and paint chips that had fallen from the ceiling and walls.

 

He suddenly found three wands in his face.

 

“Where the hell did you come from?” Ron blurted out loudly.

 

“ _Me_?” Ryou laughed worriedly, “Where the _hell_ did _he_ come from?” he pointed at the new boy who’d appeared at the wall moments before. “What on earth just happened and why the heck did those men attack you?”

 

“Never mind that,” the girl whispered to Ron, ignoring Ryou, “Just tie him up. We can Obliviate him with the rest.”

 

“Do what to me?” Ryou asked hastily. That didn’t sound good.

 

He was ignored once more and the bespectacled dark haired boy moved to cast the same spell the now unconscious man had used on Ron minutes ago. Ryou jumped to his feet and, at the exact moment the new boy cast the spell, Ryou managed to pull out a card from his pocket.

 

“Negate Attack!”  He cried hurriedly.

 

The spell card pulled the ropes that shot out with the spells called incantation into its colourful swirling vortex harmlessly before vanishing back into its image on the card.

 

“How did you do that?” The boy asked flabbergasted. The other two were staring at him in equal measures of shock and suspicion.

 

“Are you a wizard?” the girl asked. Suspicion even more evident in her tone.

 

Ryou wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly, but he was getting somewhat angry.

 

“Look here,” Ryou said, keeping his voice level, “I’ve had a trying flight today and am rather tired, not to mention in the past hour I’ve gotten lost, been harassed by drunks, eaten a stale bun and drunk an absolutely awful cup of coffee. Not to mention having a room blow up around me!”  

 

Ryou paused for a moment, replaying what he’d just said in his mind.

 

“Actually, all things considering,” he mused with a humourless smile, “This has probably been one of the least intense days I’ve ever had.”

 

“We don’t have time for this!” Hermione sighed, “Harry, keep an eye on him. Ron, come help me set things right.”

 

The two teens nodded to her and Ron joined Hermione and together they started moving the limp bodies into the positions they were before the fight had broken out.

 

“Are they dead?” Ryou asked monotonously, motioning his head to the bodies.

 

“What? No! We wouldn’t kill anyone!” The boy, - Harry – said horrified at the very implication.

 

Ryou looked at the boy. He was about Ryou’s age, maybe a bit younger. He looked like he’d been through a lot lately.

 

He looked like something was weighing heavily on him.

 

 Ryou felt sorry for the kid, Ryou knew most people considered him rather naïve and foolish, but the Ryou that existed now was a balance between the ancient thief and himself, at least to an extent. He didn’t remember much from the spirit’s past, but he did recall more than one fatality at his hands in the mist he felt at the back of his soul room. He might have tried to comfort the boy with those facts, but he wasn’t dumb enough to think that would go over well in any way. He didn’t think the boy needed to know what he’d done; past life or not. _Nobody_ needed to know he could remember killing people.

 

“Oh, okay then.” Ryou said, bringing his mind back to the present, “Your name’s Harry right?”

 

The boy stiffened at the mention of his name, as if expecting something to happen.

 

“Yes.” Harry said shortly. The boy rubbed his forehead. Ryou felt something give off a strange, painful twinge…

 

“I’m Ryou Bakura, but most people just call me Bakura.” Ryou said, shaking the feeling off. Might as well make conversation, he thought, maybe get some information.

 

Harry said nothing in reply. He glanced over where his friends were repairing the wall, nervously wishing they would hurry up so they could start moving again.

 

“This is a great homecoming for me, I must say,” Ryou continued, trying to fill the silence, “My first time in England in almost eight years, not that I’m surprised really. This sort of thing tends to follow me.”

 

He didn’t know why he said that, other than to try and keep him own panic at bay by speaking, at least he didn’t let anything important slip. He also hoped that at least seemingly opening up would help in getting information, or at least get the boy to talk some more.

 

It worked, sort of.

 

Harry looked at Ryou. “Are you a wizard?”

 

Ryou rolled his eyes, “You’ve asked that already!” he sighed, “And I have no idea what you mean by that. I’m quite sure there’s no such thing as wizards, honestly! All magic pretty much died out three thousand years ago.”

 

“Of course there’re wizards.” Harry said, “What do you think we are?” he motioned at his friends who were pointing their wands at the men muttering, while walls repaired themselves and chairs flew back into place.

 

“People affected by the broken Seal?” Ryou hazarded a guess, knowing Harry wouldn’t understand the implications.

 

“The what..?” Harry blinked before shaking his head, “Never mind,” the boy said, “How did you deflect my spell then if you’re not a wizard?”

 

“I used magic.” Ryou said frankly, suddenly he wasn’t in the mood to be overly agreeable. Lack of sleep did that to you, and the boy wasn’t being very nice or helpful.

 

“But you said you aren’t a wizard!” the boy said angrily.

 

“I’m not!” Ryou protested once more. He was getting a tad indignant.

                                                       

Harry was about to ask more, a frown still on his face, but Hermione and Ron approached.

 

“Harry, we’re done,” She said, “We just need to Obliviate him and we can go.”

 

“What do you mean, Obliviate me?” Ryou asked again with all concern.

 

“Erase your memory of this ever happening.” Hermione said factually.

 

“Oh,” Ryou said, “No thanks, I’d rather not.”

 

And with that he pulled the shadows in around him and, invisible, he whispered for Diabound who invisibly and silently, moved him backwards through the wall and into the alley behind the café.

 

He heard the yells of shock caused by his disappearance, but he didn’t stop. Ryou had to find out what was going on here, he had his other plans, but they were just going to have to wait. He had to make sure this Volde-whatever wasn’t a situation like Zork all over again.

.

.


	4. UDJYT - EXPEDITION

Harry looked at his friends in shock. “What just happened?” he asked.

 

“Did he disapparate?” Ron asked Hermione, his face twisted into a look of utter confusion.

 

She frowned and shook her head, “I don’t think so, he disappeared too slowly for disapparation, and it was much too quiet.” She was quiet for a moment before she spoke again with a shiver, “Let’s not hang around though. We can talk about it when we get somewhere safe.”

 

She was right; Harry could hear drunken laughter outside.

 

It seemed so out of place after the fight.

 

The Muggle world seemed so far away after this, even if they were technically still in it. He felt exposed, especially since that guy had gotten away.

 

“Grimmauld Place.” Harry said. It was the first thing to pop into his head. “We can go there.”

 

“But Snape –“ Hermione started to ask nervously.

 

Harry shook his head as he recalled something he’d overheard, “Moody put up some spells to block him.”

 

Hermione looked uncertain but nodded, “Okay. We can’t hang around here anymore, especially since that boy got away. We don’t know his alliances; he could be heading for V-Voldemort right now for all we know!”

 

“Let’s go,” Ron said in agreement.

 

And with that, the three disappeared, with a few well-aimed spells to wake up the three in the café.

 

They didn’t know how lucky they were for leaving then, as with Voldemorts name in the air once more, it was only a matter of time before even more Death Eaters closed in on the café.

.

.

.

The alley behind the café had not been pleasant; there were broken bottles scattered around and several uncollected garbage bags that had ripped, spilling decay onto the pavement. Ryou stepped in something soft, closing his eyes he tried not to think about it.

Blocking his nose, he let Diabound return to his soul and started walking briskly out the alley. He tried desperately to get his bearings while wandering down a new street. It was crowded with pub-goers and clubbers who for the most part paid him no attention. 

 

What had that boy – Harry, been talking about? It made sense, he decided. The magic on them wasn’t Shadow magic. It felt lighter for the most part, Weaker. As if it didn’t have much strength to it.

 

There had been that strange twinge he’d gotten too, it had felt… strange, in a way he couldn’t explain. All of this could only mean one thing; there was other magic.

 

Was there a magic that had been left behind after the Seal? Or maybe when the Seal was formed it caused the magic to split. Like how he and Yugi’s past selves had split with the forming of the Seal. That might explain why shadow magic was so picky now that the Seal had been broken...

 

Looking at a street sign, he realised he was in Charing Cross. Bringing himself out of his thoughts, Ryou scanned the shops on the street looking for the Leaky Cauldron. He hoped it was an inn of some sort, although this didn’t really seem like the right part of town for that sort of place. He was getting really tired though. The coffee hadn’t helped at all.

 

He finally spotted it; he’d only noticed it at all because of the pervasive feeling of magic surrounding it. It was a small dingy looking pub, but it didn’t have drunks hanging around it being disgustingly loud, like every other pub he’d seen so far.

 

He wasn’t too far away from it, so he decided to start towards it. He was almost to the pub when he bumped into a strange man wearing a dark red cloak. On instinct almost, Ryou plucked a small bag off of the man’s belt as the man walked into him. The man gave Ryou a look of disgust as Ryou apologized for bumping into him.

 

The man muttered something under his breath, before his face twisted into what the man must have thought gave the impression of good-humoured patience as he gave a strained apology back before disappearing down the street. Ryou blinked as the man walked off and turned into the first alley, vanishing from view.

 

Had the man just called him a Muggle?  What on earth…

 

Those teens had said something about Muggle money, Ryou remembered, his curiosity rising. He looked at the pub, only metres away, and headed in.

 

The pub was dusty and dark. It was also mainly empty, and the people that were there were huddled together in small groups and talking in hushed tones. When Ryou entered, everyone looked up from what they were doing and stared at him in silence. He could see their eyes flicker to his hair and clothes.

He stood awkwardly, wishing he could just pull the Shadows around him again, but knowing at this point it would just be stupid and more revealing than anything. After what seemed like an eternity, the occupants appeared to have deemed him to not be a threat and they shifted back to their original positions.

 

Sighing in relief, he walked in and looked for an empty table. Spotting one, he headed over and slid into a chair in the corner of the pub. He pulled the Shadows slightly, making him, while not completely invisible, pretty ignorable. Settling down he pulled out the bag he’d grabbed from the man, and tipped the contents out onto the table quietly.

Large gold coins slid out and Ryou’s eyes widened.

 

For a moment he thought he’d stolen antique doubloons or a family heirloom from the man, and he started regretting what he’d done almost immediately. When he peered around the room, however, and noticed people paying at the bar with similar coins he quickly reached a new conclusion.

 

Was this what the…wizards used as money?

 

In this day and age?

 

Looking around at the hushed people dressed in robes and cloaks, Ryou realized it was probably a good thing he was wearing his long, black trench coat now. The coat could almost pass for what the people here were wearing.

 

Making a decision, he got up from the table he walked to the bar and signalled the barman, who was busy pouring some drinks for a couple of imposing figures who kept their heads down and faces hidden under grey hoods; Ryou watched them pay the man with silver coins before they moved off to the corner where Ryou had been sitting moments before.

 

The barman then moved down towards Ryou, taking in Ryou’s size and wide-eyed face he quickly decided that Ryou was much too young to be ordering a drink from the bar and made a quick assumption and ran with it.

 

“You want a room?” the man said brusquely.

 

Ah! So this was an inn, Ryou thought happily. He was tired enough to sleep in a dumpster at this point.

 

Ryou nodded, “how much?” he asked.

 

The barman said something… sickles? What on earth? Ryou grunted noncommittally and shoved a few gold coins forward, hoping things would work themselves out.

 

The man took them and counted them out, mumbling calculations as he went. After a moment, eyebrows raised he said, “So you’ll be wanting to stay two weeks?”

 

That sounded okay, Ryou decided, he could always leave earlier if he needed to.

 

He nodded and took the bronze key the man handed him from over the bar.

 

“Seventh door on the left.” The man grunted, before moving away to top up the drink of a frowning old woman who must have been in the bar awhile judging from the growing redness of her face.

 

Ryou muttered his thanks to the barkeeper before moving away quickly. He didn’t like the way some people in the bar area were looking at him. He’d turned around, facing away from the bar, looking for the way to his room when he finally noticed a dimly lit stairway, and sighed with relief. He moved towards the stairway and up to his room. He was too exhausted to scout for any more information about this ‘wizard world’ tonight.

 

The room was small, but clean. He noticed it was connected to a small bathroom as well. Ryou smiled in relief when he saw the inviting bed. Locking the door behind him, he kicked off his shoes and put his coat and bag on the chair next to his bed.

 

He flopped on the mattress with his knife still at his belt. Kicking the blanket down, he buried his face in the pillow.

 

“Diabound, keep watch.” He sighed in his sleep and rolled over as his Ka monster materialized in the room for a moment before vanishing into its surroundings, its snake-like tail curling around Ryou protectively was the last part that was visible before finally blending in completely.

.

.

.

Meanwhile Harry, Ron and Hermione were getting settled at Grimmauld Place.

 

“Who was that guy?” Ron stormed, “How the hell did he just show up there, we checked the place when we entered – it was empty!”

 

They knew Ron was just worried, they all were. How had those Death Eaters found them so quickly?

 

“I don’t know Ron,” Harry said, “it's strange though, he seemed kind of familiar.”

 

“He did, didn’t he?” Ron agreed surprisingly.

 

Hermione looked at them both, confused, “He did? Do you think he’s from Hogwarts?”

 

Harry shook his head, “No, while I was watching him he told me he hadn’t been in England in eight years.”

 

“He did have a bit of an accent, didn’t he?” she said, “And he did say he flew in.”

 

“Maybe he’s a foreign wizard, maybe we met him at the World Cup or something,” said Ron.

 

“I asked him,” Harry frowned, “He seemed confused when I used the word wizard; he said there wasn’t supposed to be any magic in the world anymore.”

 

“Sounds like a Muggle then,” Ron said, brushing it off.

 

“But we saw him do magic, Ron!” Hermione stated.

 

“He didn’t know who I was,” Harry mused, “The Polyjuice potion I took at the wedding had worn off and he didn’t recognize me.”

 

They were quiet for awhile as this sunk in.

 

“Harry, did he tell you his name? Maybe I can find some information about him.” Hermione said.

 

Harry nodded “He told me his name was Ryou Bakura.”


	5. KHEI - APPEARANCE

.

.

"Bakura?!" Ron exclaimed.

They looked at him in surprise.

"You know him?" Harry asked.

"Well, not really," Ron admitted, "But Bill works with – I mean,  _worked_  with a British-Japanese man called Bakura in Egypt. I met him before third year, when we went to Egypt. He seemed the sort of person Bill would hang out with; the guy had a blue ponytail and everything! He was a Muggle though."

"Do you think they're related?" Hermione pressed.

Ron frowned, "Hang on, I think they are. I remember I was wondering around a dig site once with Bill and Ginny when we bumped into Mr. Bakura. He had a kid with him, about our age – with white hair, like that guy we saw."

"That must be him!" Hermione said, "It's not like that's a very common feature!"

Ron nodded before continuing, "Mr. Bakura didn't seem very happy to see us at the time. He looked pretty strained; he didn't even introduce us to the guy. The kid looked pretty shy, but he gave off this weird vibe. We didn't see the kid much after that, so I didn't really bother thinking about it at the time. We figured he'd left after that or just didn't do well in the sun, and preferred to stay indoors."

"Weird how?" Harry asked, thinking about what Ron had just said.

Ron scratched his head, "I don't know how to describe it; it was kind of intense I guess."

They sat in silence, thinking about this.

"Well, if his father worked with Bill I doubt he's a threat," Harry said slowly, "We should focus on the Horcruxes; we still have to worry about Voldemort." Even as Harry said that, he still felt something niggle in the back of his mind. Something about that guy reminded him of something long ago…

Hermione nodded, "I have some books we can go through, and I still need to figure out why Dumbledore gave me that book. But if we have time I think we should look into this Bakura guy too, Ron's right – there's something strange about him."

No one disagreed with her.

* * *

Ryou was having an interesting week. On the second day of his stay at the Leaky Cauldron, he'd followed some witches behind the pub and into a place called Diagon Alley. Since then he'd spent his every waking moment exploring it and the place called Knockturn Alley.

On the whole it was a dreary place, and people were moving in small groups and not staying anywhere long. This made it difficult for him to pick pocket some more gold, but he managed to get a reasonable amount nonetheless. He tried to keep the stealing to a minimum, but he got carried away a few times.

On one occasion, he bumped into a shifty looking man who was standing outside the Leaky Cauldron. The man had a bag that looked almost  _stereotypically_  like a swag bag with him, filled with different magical looking items. As Ryou walked past him, shooting his hand out, he found himself walking away with a large gold locket. The man didn't notice. If anything he stood taller and looked in much better cheer with the absence of the locket.

His cheer didn't last long though, as the man was setting up a place to sell, a squat woman in a pink dress marched towards him and started talking in a sickly sweet voice that made Ryou automatically block her out.

Ryou didn't dwell on it though, walking briskly out of the confrontation zone. He looked at the locket. It was fairly big, and was quite ornate. It also looked rather expensive, but he didn't really like touching it, despite its beauty. The locket gave off a magical energy he didn't like and he quickly sent it to the Shadows to be guarded by Dark Necrofear. He still felt a bit strange though, even with it gone.

.

The first shop he'd actually gone to during his stay was a clothing store called Madam Malkins, where he bought himself a hooded cloak first thing. He didn't want to stand out in this place, it just didn't feel safe. He immediately pulled the cloak on and wore it whenever he left his room at the Leaky Cauldron. He could walk around unnoticed without the aid of the shadows now.

Summoning the shadows so often was starting to wear him out. He really wasn't used to it

Fortunately summoning Diabound was different to other Shadow monsters and magic's, since it was  _his_  Ka monster and therefore a part of his soul, making it easier to keep him around at night to guard him. Necrofear hadn't been brought out of the Shadows once yet, but she was guarding the growing pile of loot and luggage he was sending through.

He'd had Diabound guard him on instinct the first night, but as Ryou learned more about the wizarding world, he found himself feeling safer sleeping with Diabound watching.

While wizard's magic was weaker than Shadow magic, seeing as it seemed to focus on  _either_  light or dark from what he'd seen, meaning it was never able to reach the full potential of the Shadows, it was still dangerous and Ryou didn't want to get caught off guard by one of the 'Death Eaters' who's poster's covered the street.

On his fourth day, Ryou found a shop that defied the overall impression of the alley; it was bright and noisy with a dramatic sign proclaiming it to be…

"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes." Ryou read.

Weasley? As in Bill Weasley? Ryou wondered, moving to the shop to find out, curiosity overwhelming him. Could Bill be a wizard? Ryou didn't know the man well enough to make an educated guess, but he was hopeful. That wasn't the only thing to overwhelm him, as he walked into the shop; the place was filled, at least in comparison to the rest of the alley he'd seen.

In his time in Diagon Alley Ryou hadn't seen so many people in one place ever! Looking at the displays he saw why. While he'd seen plenty of wizards' magic in the past few days, this place really defined  _magic_! It was colourful and noisy, and people were looking at displays with smiles. Things on the shelves moved or changed colours as people examined them.

One display in particular caught Ryou's eye; Extendable Ears. Recalling his earlier eavesdropping, and his need to collect more information, he moved towards it, pulling his hood down to get a better look at the long thin tubes.

"Blimey Fred, look at him!" Ryou heard behind him.

"By George, George! I wonder how he got his hair like that." Ryou stiffened and turned around to face the voices.

It was two boys, older than him, but not by much. Both had flaming red hair, and they looked as if they may have once been identical twins, if one didn't currently have a hole where his ear should have been.

"Oh, um… hello?" Ryou said to them awkwardly. He was never good at meeting new people.

The one with the missing ear said, "What do you make of him, Fred?"

"Never seen him before, George."

"Can't just trust anyone in here,"

"Had the wrong sort buy things before."

"Bad times." George agreed.

Ryou looked at them; "Excuse me, but are you the owners of this place?" they looked similar to Bill, Ryou noticed, the same hair and a similar attitude.

They broke off their discussion of him and nodded.

"Are you related to  _Bill_  Weasley?" He asked.

"'Course we are," George said.

"Everyone knows that." Fred agreed.

"Why?" they both asked, suddenly suspicious.

Ryou broke into a smile, maybe they would be able to help him, "That's great!" he exclaimed, "My father used to work with him in Egypt, until Bill left to get married."

The twins looked at each other, "Didn't Bill work at a Muggle site?" Fred whispered.

"Yeah, he was the only wizard on there to make sure the Muggles didn't stumble onto anything."

"What's your name kid?" Fred asked.

"Ryou Bakura."

The twins looked at each other and nodded before signalling a lady.

"We're going to the back" George said to her.

"Keep an eye on the shop." Fred added.

She nodded, "Yes Sirs."

Then they walked Ryou through the crowd and into what looked like a small staff room.

They pulled out their wands and performed a few spells on the room before they sat him down and then looked at him.

"Four years ago our family visited Bill in Egypt." Fred said.

"There was a Mr. Bakura there, we spent a bit of time with him," George said.

"He was a Muggle, so we had to be careful though," Fred agreed.

"So what we want to know is, since you obviously managed to get here is,"

"Who,"

"And what,"

"Are you?" Fred finished.

Ryou looked at them.

"What's a Muggle?"

This was one thing be hadn't found out yet, he'd heard the word many times now though. He just didn't understand the meaning from the contexts he'd heard.

"A non-magic person."

Ah! That explained it.

"Are you one?" Fred asked.

Ryou shook his head, "I can use magic."

"Mr. Bakura didn't mention he had a son, and you don't look much like him, what with the hair."

Ryou laughed mirthlessly at that, "Yeah, no one in my direct family had hair like mine, but it is a family trait going back. I'm not surprised father didn't talk about me though. He doesn't like to mention me much, I alarm him. I guess."

The twins looked a bit disturbed at that, "You scare your father?"

Ryou shrugged, "Because I can do magic I guess." His father didn't actually  _know_  Ryou could do magic, but he wasn't going to go into the whole Monster World fiasco now, especially in this situation. He'd only just met these people after all, even if they did seem nice.

The twins nodded in understanding, "Yeah that can happen with Muggle-borns,"

"It goes in reverse in the wizarding world with squibs – Muggles born to wizards."

Ryou decided to move the conversation along, this was getting too uncomfortable.

"But the thing is I'm new to the wizarding world, or at least the British magical community. I stumbled across it by chance after I heard some teens mention it in a café... Honestly, I have no idea what's going on!"

Ryou had decided to take the opportunity to learn more about what was happening. He knew from the spirit pretending to be him so many times that at least  _pretending_  to be honest and naïve was more useful in gaining trust and information. Ryou, unfortunately, did not have the talent for lying, even with their souls merged. Telling half truths was the best he could manage, if that.

The twins looked at each other before looking at Ryou.

"We'll give you some information," Fred said.

"Can't have a kid like you getting himself killed," George agreed.

"As is likely to happen in these times,"

"Especially to a Muggle-born."

"It'd be nice to help someone," Fred said to George.

"Especially since our shop will be probably be gone within a month or two." George agreed morbidly.

"Wait, why would you go, your shop seems to be the only one with any customers?" Ryou asked, confused.

"We're considered blood traitors." Fred answered.

"With the fall of the ministry, we're probably going to be hunted down pretty soon."

"And even if they don't,"

"We'll still be under constant scrutiny."

At Ryou's confused look, the twins elaborated and for the next half hour Ryou learned about what was happening in the wizarding world, before wondering out back into Diagon Alley with his hood up and his pockets filled with WWW products.

.

.

.

A few days later, Ryou was in a Knockturn alley shop called Borgan and Burkes. It was an interesting place he'd found, and he'd spent quite an amount of time there looking at the items on sale.

Ryou had found himself drawn to a shelf claiming to be thief's tools. Looking at them, he noticed a pocket knife that looked almost identical to the card  _Seven Tools of the Bandit_.

Grinning, he created a Shadow replica with a bit of effort. He picked up the tool and after checking for any anti-theft spells and finding only minor ones, he quickly disabled them and pocketed it.

Most of the shops in Diagon Alley didn't bother spelling their stock to prevent theft, but after an incident he'd had earlier in another Knockturn shop, in which a beautiful occult item he'd taken a liking to, but which was much to expensive for him to afford, had taken to screaming in a high-pitched voice the moment he reached the door, he'd learned to check.

The incident had not been fun; Ryou had panicked and dropped the item when the shopkeeper had yelled from the back of the shop. The item had continued shrieking on the ground and Ryou had run out the shop quickly pulling in the Shadows to hide him. He'd watched from the corner as the shopkeeper came out with a weird ornate block of wood, which Ryou assumed was some kind of thief detector. After a minute of pointing it up and down the street, the man walked back into the shop grumbling.

In Borgan and Burkes he continued looking, and once again found himself entranced by another object. It was a grotesque shrivelled severed hand. A sign under it proclaimed it to be the Hand of Glory, an object that gives light to only the barer. Ryou picked it up and carried it to the counter. This was something worth paying for.

Walking around Knockturn Alley, he decided to stop over in one of the pubs. It was very different to the Leaky Cauldron; It was smaller and while they were both dimly lit and dusty, this place made it feel more like a part of the décor than just fear and neglect.

Ryou walked up to the bar, his hood pulled over his face and a thin layer of Shadows obscuring any visible features, he ordered a shot of Fire Whiskey – the bartender didn't ask for any identification. At any rate, Ryou was less than a week away from eighteen, so he didn't see why it mattered much. Picking up the small glass Ryou walked away from the counter and sat down in a corner booth.

There was a copy of the Daily Prophet lying on the table. Picking it up as he sat down he glanced at the front page and to his surprise, Ryou saw a large photo of Harry, the boy he'd run into.

WANTED FOR QUESTIONING ABOUT THE DEATH OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE.

Ryou immediately skimmed the article in interest. Was the boy he met really a murder suspect?

Ryou shook his head, it was impossible. He remembered the way that boy had acted when Ryou implied he'd killed those men. But he couldn't be sure, after all, just because he didn't have the spirit's well honed skill at lying didn't mean others suffered the same impediment.

The boy who lived? Ryou read, that was something the twins had mentioned. Did that mean the Harry he met was Harry  _Potter_ , the supposed saviour of the wizarding world?

Ryou looked through the rest of the paper, noticing the article on Muggle-born Registrations. The twins had mentioned that, which was one of the reasons he was trying to keep such a low profile. Walking around the Alley's he'd heard several horror stories about what was happening to anyone suspected of having no magical relatives.

Ryou watched as a group of people walked into the pub. He froze as he recognized a few of the faces from the posters littered around the streets.

Death Eaters.

Ryou watched cautiously as they sat down in a booth and started whispering, one signalled the barman, who practically ran over with a tray of drinks. Ryou could tell the Death Eaters were used to this treatment, and it didn't look like they were expected to pay either.

Quickly, Ryou pulled out one of the Extendable Ears and, covering it with a layer of Shadows, directed it towards the Death Eaters.

Most of the conversation was undecipherable, even with the ears. However Ryou managed to catch reference to two things. The first was what amounted to jealousy; the Death Eaters seemed upset about favouritism towards someone named Bellatrix. The second thing Ryou managed to catch was something about an extremely important and valuable dark item which was being sent to be kept for the Dark Lord in the LeStrange vault.

Pulling back the ear, Ryou decided he wanted to go for it. He was going to break into Gringotts and steal from the Dark Lord. He didn't know when the item would get to the vault though, or even how to navigate Gringotts; he didn't trust the goblins there so he'd avoided it up until now.

This would take planning.

.

.

.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had been making discoveries of their own back at Grimmauld Place. Their second day there they'd not only found out who R.A.B was from Harry's wandering around the desolate old house, but they'd also made an interesting discovery in the form of Kreacher the house elf.

Kreacher had become a well of information about Regulus Black; helping the three no end before Harry sent him after the Horcrux Locket that Kreacher told them Mundungus had stolen.

It was a few days later, Hermione had taken to reading, while Ron helped out where he could. Currently however, Hermione was at the Muggle supermarket. She'd left under the cloak half an hour ago, as they'd run out of food and they'd found it impossibly difficult to transfigure any.

Harry was keeping watch by the window, all day there had been suspicious looking men across the street. They were probably Death Eater's watching the area, but unable to see or enter Grimmauld Place. He hoped Hermione would be alright.

Harry sighed and went to join Ron. He was still confused about the guy at the café.

Ron's explanation for how  _he_  recognized him made sense, but it didn't explain why Bakura seemed familiar to Harry.

Suddenly, Hermione burst through the door. The cloak over her was pulled off and revealed several shopping bags which she dropped on the table.

"You won't believe what I found!" she said excitedly as she dug through one of the bags.

Finally she pulled out a Muggle magazine and handed it to Harry.

"What's going on?" Ron asked, walking into the room.

"I found out who Bakura is!" Hermione said triumphantly.

"What?"

Harry looked at the magazine she passed him. It was a colourful gaming magazine, like the sort Dudley used to get when he was younger. On the cover it said in bold letters over a dramatic photo of a leather clad boy with wild hair;

 

BATTLE CITY EXCLUSIVE! BIOS ON YOUR FAVOURITE DUEL MONSTER FINALISTS! LEARN MORE ABOUT THE ULTIMATE GAMER YUGI MOTOU AND MORE!

 

Underneath this, in smaller capitals was a list of names;

 

YUGI MOTOU

SETO KAIBA

MARIK ISHTAR

RISHID ISHTAR

ISIS ISHTAR

KATSUYA JOUNOUCHI

MAI KUJAKU

RYOU BAKURA.

 

Ryou Bakura!

"The magazine is really old," Hermione said, "It was just lying there. It was pure luck I spotted it!"

Harry looked at the date on the corner; it was almost two years old!

"Duel Monsters?" Ron said, "What's that?"

"A Muggle card game from America." Hermione said, "Well, open it Harry! I want to see what it says!"

Harry flipped to the contents page, "page twenty-three." He muttered.

When they got to the page, looking up at them was a school photo of a pale boy with soft pale eyes and long white hair.

"That's him!" Harry said, "I mean, he's older now, but it's still him."

"Read what it says Harry."

 

" _NAME: RYOU BAKURA_

_The first contender knocked out of the finals at battle city against Yugi Motou, the King of Games._

_Bakura's deck focuses on the occult, and it has been rumoured that he enjoys using the graphic nature of monsters in his deck to unnerve the competition, putting them on edge and allowing him to over power them with the power of the incredibly rare Dark Sanctuary field card._

_Bakura was born in England, making him the only British finalist at Battle City. Originally from Surrey, England; Bakura moved around Britain with his family until the death of his mother and sister, at which point he moved to Japan before finally settling in Battle City itself; Domino._

_Many rumours' follow this duellist, including hints of a dark past; but none of the rumours seem to have any basis in truth, Including a rumour similar to the one that follows the King of Games himself; that Bakura is possessed by an ancient spirit."  
_

"Rumours of possession?" said Ron, "Do you think You-Know-Who –"

Hermione shook her head, "No, look at the time frame. Two years ago was when Voldemort was with Wormtail. Plus, it says Bakura was in Japan at the time."

"Surrey…" Harry whispered.

"What was that Harry?" Ron asked.

"Bakura lived in Surrey." Harry said, "I think that's where I remember him from. I think he went to my school for a while."

"What?" Ron yelped.

Harry frowned, "I was really young, and it was like my second year of school. I was six, maybe seven. There was a boy a year higher than me. I don't remember his name, but I recall he was picked on even more than I was. The kids always referred to him as 'the Albino Freak' or 'Ghost Boy' because of his hair and obsession with ghosts."

"Bakura." Ron said rather redundantly, before adding, "Kids can be so cruel."

Harry looked thoughtful, he remembered something else.

"I remember there was some big incident involving him and two kids from his year level. His family left town soon after. I think the other two are still in hospital. At least they were last time I heard."

"Still in hospital?" Hermione looked horrified, "After  _eleven_  years?"

Harry shrugged, "I think they went into a coma or something. I'm not sure."

Ron shivered, "This guy sounds dangerous. What sort of kid sends people into comas and has on obsession with darkness and ghosts? It explains why his dad tried to hide him from us back in Egypt."

"Ron!" Hermione said aghast, "I doubt he did it on purpose, it was probably just a horrible accident. We don't know he was the cause; maybe he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Besides, he doesn't exactly look evil," She said pointing at the photo of the almost angelic looking boy.

Harry was quiet. This reminded him too much of Voldemort's childhood.

A sweet looking boy getting revenge on other children with disproportionate results?

And if the kid he remembered  _was_  Bakura, it was all too plausibly that as a kid he'd done the same to those boys who'd tormented him. Especially when he looked at it in the context Ron has just said.

Appearances could be deceiving after all.


	6. CHAPTER SIX: IAHTU – PLACE OF EXECUTION

.

.

Kreacher showed up the next day at Grimmauld Place, dragging a screaming Mundungus with him with some difficulty. The trio were in the kitchen as usual, books and parchment scattered over the table top and spilling on to the floor. With the arrival of the house elf and Mundungus, Ron gave a loud squawk and toppled over in his chair, parchment flying across the room as a result.

 

Mundungus was struggling against the old elf, who was hanging on to the man with a bony, vice like grip. Kreacher was giving the man evil looks and seemed to be taking every opportunity to give the man a kick. Harry pushed his chair back and stood up.

 

“Enough!” He roared.

 

Mundungus and Kreacher froze before turning to face Harry. Dung’s eyes widened at the sight of him before he quickly put on an air of indignation.   

 

“Set a bleeding house elf on me, did ya?!” He fumed, “What’ve I ever done to be treated like this?”

 

“That’s what we want to find out.” Harry said calmly, “I know you took a bunch of things from here when the Order left,”

 

He was cut off by Dung yelling, “Sirius never cared for those things, he hated this place! You can’t blame me ‘fer that; ‘E’d have done it ‘E’s self if he could!”

 

“Shut up!” Harry said, the mention of Sirius had upset him, and his anger was evident in his tone.

 

Dung fell silent, watching Harry cautiously.

 

“What we want to know,” Harry said, forcing himself to be calm, “is if you took a large gold locket from Kreacher’s cupboard.”

 

“Why? Is it worth much?” Dung said, eyes gleaming.

 

“He sold it!” Ron yelled out.

 

Harry looked at Dung sharply, “Did you?”

 

“I wish!” Dung whined quickly, “I had something like that for awhile, but it disappeared before I could fob it off. ‘Course, I wouldn’t have had the chance to anyway. What with that awful ministry woman taking the rest of my stock in the same day.”

 

“Do you have any idea where it could have gone?” Harry pressed.

 

“Na – Wait! I remember this guy bumping into me outside the Leaky Cauldron. I didn’t go near anyone else while since I arrived, so it had to be him!”

 

“What did he look like?”

 

“Not sure,” Dung shook his head, “‘E had a hood on.”

 

“You must have noticed something.”

 

  Mundungus was quiet for a moment, thinking.

 

“From what I saw ‘e was kind of pale.” He said slowly, “Think I saw some white hair under ‘es hood. In fact, ‘e looked like that peculiar albino kid that’s been hanging around Diagon Alley lately, now that I think about it.”

 

The three looked at each other, faces drained of blood. It had to be Bakura again, who else could it be? And now he had a Horcrux.

 

.

.

Ryou woke up to the sound of banging on his inn room door. Getting up, he pulled on his cloak before he walked barefoot to the door of his room.

He opened it cautiously, and found himself looking down to face the toad-like pink lady he’d seen on his second day in the Alley. Behind her were two burly men in dusty robes.

 

“Can I help you?” he asked politely.

 

The woman gave him a sickly sweet smile and spoke in a high-pitched voice, “We’re here from the Muggle-born Registration Commission. We have reason to believe you have no magical relatives, is that correct?”

 

Ryou remembered what the twins had told him, and the article he’d read yesterday. They’d moved fast! How’d they find him? He hadn’t exactly been advertising his presence here, had he?

 

“No, that’s false,” he said to her, “I can trace magic in my ancestry back three thousand years.” He was referring to the Tomb Robber of course.

 

This didn’t seem to be what the woman wanted to hear however.

 

“Oh? If that’s so I’m sure you wouldn’t mind coming down to the ministry with us to confirm this.”

 

“Actually, I would mind. I have business to attend and I’d rather not have to put it off.”

 

“I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice in the matter.” She smiled as the men behind her moved forward.

 

Moving back, Ryou silently cursed. He couldn’t just vanish from here in front of them; he didn’t want ministry officials knowing what he could do. There was only one more option he could think of. Slipping his knife into his hand subtly, he quietly said, “Please leave, I really would hate for you to force my hand.”

 

The men ignored him. Wands out, one of the men gave a sick grin and shot a spell at him. Moving quickly, Ryou moved behind the first man, holding his knife against the man’s neck. Ryou warned them one more time, “If you leave now you’ll have the fortune of _not_ leaving in a body bag.”

 

They didn’t listen, and Ryou would be upset about happened next for a very long time.

 

The man who had grinned before had a sadistic glint in his eyes. Ryou wasn’t expecting such quick response when their colleague’s life was on the line, and didn’t expect it when a spell hit him in the face. He flinched backwards, his knife cutting the man he was threatening lightly, Ryou managed to jerk the knife away from the man’s neck to prevent further injury as he gasped.

 

His face felt warm and pain streaked down his cheek, he couldn’t open his left eye either. The man pulled out of his grasp and was yelling at the other man, obviously mad at his companion’s disregard for his life. Ryou couldn’t hear what they were saying though, buzzing filled his ears. Touching his face he could feel a stinging cut down his cheek. Looking at his hand he looked at the blood.

 

His blood…

 

.

.

.

_Bakura was heading back to Kul Elna. His father and uncle would be returning today with some of the other men from their tomb robbing expedition, they’d been gone for almost a month. When they returned, the older children would help them melt down the gold. The woman and a few of the men would then travel to the larger city of Deshret to the north to buy food and supplies for the village._

_The village of Kul Elna was out in the desert, the only water supply was the oasis which supplied them with drinking water for them and the horses and camels. They couldn’t do any farming this far from the Nile; the ground was just too arid. They couldn’t keep bees or cattle for the same reason. The only means the village had was the robbers travelling to the royal necropolis to steal the riches and sell what they got to feed their village._

_Bakura couldn’t wait to get home, he’d been travelling all day. He was only eight, but he’d begged his mother to let him go to town to steal a coming home gift for his father. She hadn’t wanted him to go alone; she always worried about him because he looked so different from everyone else._

_When he was born, the village leader had been the only reason the other villagers hadn’t killed him for being a demon. The leader calmed the villagers down and told them that his white hair and grey eyes weren’t a sign that he was an evil spirit; rather that he was destined to be a great thief who would bring power to the village. Some villagers still feared him, and some still called him_ seba[1] _behind his back._

_Eventually, His mother only let him go after she’d made him rub some clay into his hair and covered it with some cloth._

_When he’d arrived in the town, he’d looked around the market for something to give his father. Wandering into the expensive areas of the market he saw rows of fruit, meat and fish. Eyeing the food in wonder he knew this was the place to get something. Food was the most valuable commodity in their village, there was no point getting something else. He wanted to get something delicious to give to his father, a fruit or some honey._

_Walking along the stalls, he saw a large light green round, fruit. Moving closer, he noticed a light sweet smell from it. A melon! He’d only once tasted melon before, they’d only had them in the village a few times, and normally only the adults or sick children were given any. He’d been given some a year ago for dehydration after him and some of the other children spent the day in the desert to see who could last longest. Bakura had always had trouble with the sun, but he’d managed for most of the day, and had been the fourth last to give up and go home. Because of his trouble with the sun, he often had to stay indoors and help with the woman’s work, but whenever the men would take the children thieving, Bakura was always singled out for his skill._

_Watching the merchant, Bakura waited until he turned his back before his hand shot out and grabbed one of the melons. Looking around cautiously, he moved quickly and shoved the melon into the side bag his mother had made him and walked as fast as he could without drawing attention to himself to the horse he’d borrowed from the village. He struggled up onto the horse, his eight year old frame giving him difficulty._

_He’d rode out of town quickly, eager to return home, the wind ripping the cloth off his head as he galloped over the desert sand._

_He’d been so happy to get the melon. The tomb robbers had spent a month in the sun, and Bakura was sure they’d appreciate the fruit after that long. He was almost to his village, the sun had made the clay flake out of his unprotected hair, but it was starting to set. Looking towards the village, he saw smoke wafting up from behind the dunes. The men were home! Bakura grinned happily; they’d already started the feast to welcome them. Urging the horse on, he reached the dune overlooking the village about ten minutes after the sun had finally set._

_He looked down on the village in horror._

_Flames were licking at the buildings and the whole village glowed red. He could hear screaming. Bakura swallowed. It was raiders! They sometimes attacked the village, but Kul Elna’s reputation as a vicious village of thieves had helped shield them from attacks in recent years. Bakura climbed off the horse and quietly slide down the dune to the side of the village. Reaching it he shivered in horror, things were much too quiet. There was no more screaming._

_Gulping, he moved quietly through the village. He could see blood on the walls and streets. Everything smelt like smoke and blood. Where was everybody? How could there be so much blood and no bodies? Hiding in the shadows, he moved towards the sound of some quiet talking. He was in the middle of the village, in what was once the village square. It was gone now; there was a huge tunnel there in its place._

_Bakura stared in horror as some men came up from the tunnel. These were no raiders, these were Palace Guards! He watched in horror as the men spoke in hushed tones._

_“It’ll be over soon, just remember the pharaoh.” One was telling a younger guard._

_“It’s just,” the younger man whispered, “Why do they have to be_ alive _?”_

_“Master Akhenaden said it must be done with living sacrifices, it cannot be avoided.”_

_“I know.” The man gulped._

_The man suddenly started dry reaching and coughing before taking a deep breath and heading back down the tunnel with the other guards. Bakura followed them; he felt numb and didn’t care about anything as he walked down the tunnel stairway. Reaching the bottom, he hid behind a wall and looked around._

_He saw the villagers chained in a corner; the men were all knocked unconscious, as were some of the women. The children were gone from sight; Bakura couldn’t see any of his friends or siblings. The conscious woman were crying or looking blankly at nothing, as if they’d lost all their will. Bakura’s eyes finally adjusted to see the rest of the cavern, he could see guards dragging the unconscious men, their faces and bodies caked in blood, but still making choked breathing noises._

_They dragged the bodies towards a huge cauldron in the middle of the underground chamber a golden glow emitted from the top. Bakura’s eyes widened in horror, one of the unconscious bodies was still moving slightly, its eyes half open. It choked and blood spat out of its mouth. Bakura looked in horror as the body was lifted over the cauldron, the golden glow from inside illuminated the face for a moment and Bakura froze numbly as he realised it was his father. He was dropped in the cauldron, and as he hit it a scream shot out and echoed through the chamber. The guards froze up for a moment, looking at the cauldron in horror._

_“Don’t stop!” a man with a beard yelled, “This is for the pharaoh, these are his orders!”_

_The guards shivered a moment, looking at the cauldron, before they continued dropping in the bodies. Most were unconscious, the guards had taken to knocking everyone over the head an extra time to try and prevent what had just happened occurring again, but a few others screamed when they hit the gold liquid. Bakura watched it all. He couldn’t move, he knew this couldn’t be real. This was just a nightmare; why would the pharaoh do this? This couldn’t happen._

_Bakura watched as the last body was dropped into the cauldron._

_“That’s enough men!” The bearded man yelled, “We have all we need now, pour the gold!”_

_The men heaved at ropes and tipped the huge cauldron. Gold flowed out thickly into a huge rock. The bearded man nodded and moved towards the stairway and out the chamber._

_“Leave it to cool! I’ll be back soon.” The man yelled again._

_The guards stood to attention until the man was out of sight. Most of the guards followed the man, out of the chamber but a few stayed behind. They were talking among one another in hushed tones. Bakura finally moved.  He couldn’t feel anything anymore, but he walked towards the men in silence anyway. He wanted to die with his family; he wanted them to kill him. One guard noticed him and yelled out. Spinning around, a guard drew his sword and swung it at Bakura. It hit him in the face and Bakura fell to the ground, he could feel the pain fill him. He could feel the pain of his family. He could hear them calling for revenge!_

_“Ra! I thought it was a ghost when I saw it there,” The guard who’d yelled murmured, “It’s only a kid. I’ve never seen a kid with hair like that before though.”_

_One of The other guards moved towards him, “We should kill it now, it doesn’t look human. Who knows what darkness this ritual has unleashed?”_

_But another grabbed his arm; it was the young guard from before, “No, leave him. We have all the sacrifices we needed, let’s not add a pointless murder to our conscience as well.” He said, his eyes looking haunted and regretful at the small boy._

_The man walked over and kicked Bakura into a shadowed corner, “Stay here kid, if master Akhenaden sees you, I doubt he’ll let you escape alive. The others had to die for the pharaoh, if you just shut up, you won’t have to.”_

_Clutching his face Bakura opened his eye, blood had dripped into it and all he could see was red. He felt his anger grow inside; he could feel it paralyze him in rage. He wanted to kill them all. Every_ damned _one of them. These guards should suffer like his family had!_

_When the bearded man returned with some priests, he ordered the guards out. Bakura didn’t notice. He didn’t notice when the giant slab of rock was broken, but he noticed the gold they pulled out of it. He shook in rage. That was his family! Those objects were his people! They should die for this! They should die! He heard screams as the ground started to shake. The ground ripped apart and the several men fell into the cracks screaming in terror. Bakura watched from the dark as he saw the key to his revenge rise from the Shadows…_

_._

_._

_._

 

Ryou wrenched his eye open. Blood filled his vision and buzzing filled his ears, the men had stopped yelling at each other and the woman was looking at him with a repulsed look, a short wand hanging limply in her hand.

 

“ _Behau_![2]” He growled in rage, he saw them yelling, but couldn’t hear the words, blood rushed in his ears cutting off all outside noise. He dove at the man who’d sent the cutting hex, the Shadows closing in around the room – Cutting off any possibility of them escaping. These people wouldn’t be leaving alive!

 

Moving quickly, he grabbed the man’s wand and snapped it in one hand. Pulling the man down as he lunged at Ryou in rage, Ryou gripped the handle of his knife hard and he dug his knife deep into the man’s neck; warm blood flowed over his hand sickly as the man gurgled. Blood sprayed over Ryou’s hair and face. In his rage, Ryou stabbed the man again as he snarled, the man dropped to the ground, and already Ryou was moving again, the other two were shooting spells at him, and he’d wasn’t going to be caught by one.

 

“Dark Necrofear!” he snarled, pulling the card from his pocket.

 

Necrofear swooped down on the woman from the Shadows, focusing her nightmare gaze at her. The pink lady’s eyes grew wide in horror, pulling her chin into her neck in a very toad-like way before she finally fell to the ground screaming, her wand rolling away pointlessly.

 

“Man-Eater Bug!”  He summoned again, his eyes flashing at the remaining man.

 

The insect appeared behind the last man without him even noticing, as was expected of the effect monster. The man didn’t even have time to scream as Man-Eater Bug ripped him apart, blood splattering Ryou and the Shadowed walls.

 

Looking around, Ryou saw the squat woman lying still, blood oozing from her eyes, face twisted in a horrific gaze. He gave the body an angry kick before looking up, eyes hard. Shadow monsters were showing up all around, watching from the darkness, Attracted by the smell of blood.

 

Ryou nodded at them, “Go ahead and take them.” He motioned monotonously, “You guys deserve a bite.”

 

With that, the monsters dove forward, ripping at the lifeless bodies while Ryou faded from the Shadow Realm and back into his room.

 

Looking around his small room, Ryou saw no trace of the fight, other than a few drops of blood from when he’d been cut. It seemed the mess had been left in the Shadows.

 

His anger had faded and he sighed in relief, he sat down on his bed. He’d have to leave now; he knew more people would be coming. He’d have to go after Gringotts another time; the object would probably be in the safe by then.

 

Pulling his hand through his hair, he noticed it was sticky. Getting up, he slowly moved into the bathroom to reach the mirror.

 

“Good Heavens…” The mirror whispered at him in horror.

 

Numbly, he stared at his reflection. He was still covered in blood. His hair was clumped together, held into messy masses by drying blood. His face had flaking red streaks where blood had dried, as well as still wet clots that dripped from his face. An angry red cut went down his left cheek; his blood mingling with the blood of the men.

 

 His clothes were drenched in the stuff. He pulled off his cloak in horror. It made a squelching noise as it hit the wooden floor, blood oozing out of it. He started shaking in horror as it finally hit him. He’d _killed_ those people! They’d just been doing their job and he’d _killed_ them! They didn’t deserve that, no one deserved what he’d just done to the ministry officials.

 

Yugi was right, He realised in numb horror; Ryou couldn’t keep the new additions to his temperament under control. He wasn’t strong enough. The Thief King was affecting him too deeply, not just now – but in everything! He was stealing just for the thrill of it; even planning to break into a bank for fun just to make a very powerful man angry!

 

Why?

 

Sitting down heavily on the bathroom floor, Ryou noticed a copy of the Daily Prophet lying on the floor. It was yesterday’s copy, the one he’d picked up at the bar. He’d probably left it on the sink before showering yesterday and it got knocked off. He stared at the moving picture of Harry Potter before he focused in on something; looking at the date on the paper he realized something. Today was September first, that meant…

 

“It’s my birthday tomorrow.” He said, before bursting into tears, washing pale streaks down his bloody cheeks and stinging his cut cheek.

 .

.

.

 

[1] Seba: Ancient Egyptian word meaning devil or demon.

[2] Behau: Ancient Egyptian word meaning coward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, being sick and having work has killed my energy lately.


	7. DJET DJU – SAD/EVIL FOREVER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryou was leaving.

Ryou was leaving.

 

He was going away from the wizarding world. None of the things happening here was his problem! He wasn’t Yugi - who felt the need to save the world at every opportunity. None of this was _his_ to worry about.

 

He wasn’t one of these wizards, he didn’t have any reason to get involved in the first place! He was a Shadow Mage! He shouldn’t have messed with things that didn’t involve him. He should have left the moment he realised this magic wasn’t involved with the Shadows in any way!

 

Ryou had scrubbed himself clean in the shower, washing his hair over and over. The blood had dried hard and made it difficult to get out, and the metallic smell clung to his nostrils and wouldn’t leave until several washes after. He’d then turned the bathroom upside down looking for a bandage and disinfectant for his cut face.

 

His cheek had swollen since the fight and Ryou had panicked at the thought of some strange wizard blood born infections that he didn’t know of, that could cause who knows what! He’d calmed down eventually, and had found a small bottle of something called Essence of Murtlap under the sink which claimed to be for soothing and healing cuts and other wounds. He’d dabbed it on his face gingerly and was amazed to feel the swelling go down. Looking in the mirror, he'd found that the cut looked days old and had scabbed over. He felt slightly better about that fear at least, and put the Murtlap away back where he’d found it.

 

He also found a spray bottle of Magical Mess Remover under the sink, which he’d sprayed, hands shaking, on the blood that had dripped from his cloak all over the floor and where he’d sat on the bed. The blood had vanished easily from the sheets, and the bloody footprints he’d left leading to the bathroom lifted off easily.

 

There was still a stain on the wooden floor where he’d dropped the cloak that he couldn’t get rid of, though. He’d emptied half the spray-bottle on the stain, but a dark evil patch still remained much to his frustration. He’d started shaking uncontrollably the whole time he’d been scrubbing in the bathroom. The mirror had remained quiet the whole time, in a way that felt awfully filled with judgment. Ryou didn’t feel particularly comfortable with the silence, considering how talkative it had been when he’d arrived. The idea of even the animated inanimate object being scared of him made him feel even more like a monster.

 

He’d burned the cloak, and the other clothes he’d been wearing in the room’s fireplace. There was no way he’d wear them again, even if they weren’t ruined. It wasn’t like he’d need the cloak anymore anyway; he wasn’t planning on ever returning to the wizarding world!

 

After he’d packed all his things – he’d sent any magical things he’d bought or stolen to the Shadows, he gave the room a final look over. The only thing that remained was the dark patch in the bathroom, and a few small scraps in the fireplace, but he couldn’t do anything more about that.

 

He just wanted to leave.

 

He sighed shakily and locked the room before walking down to the pub area of the Leaky Cauldron. Walking up to the bar, he shoved the key to his room at the barman with very little courtesy. He still felt sick all over, and was having trouble controlling some of his movements.

 

“I’m leaving.” He said shortly to the man, before walking out towards the Muggle side of the pub and into the streets of London.

 

Ryou was going to do what he’d planned to do originally. He was going to do what he came to this country to do.

 

Walking out to a main street Ryou signalled a cab. He asked the driver to take him to the Hospital near Surrey.

 

It was time to see if Greg Anderson and Andy Smith were okay. He knew the people who’d been trapped in Monster World back in Japan had been returned to their bodies, it was time to make sure the people in Britan were okay. He couldn’t put it off any longer. If they weren’t okay, he could at least try to set it right and if they were - he would have one less thing to worry about.

 

The ride felt long, and Ryou ignored the driver’s attempts to make conversation.

 

He’d just _murdered_ three humans. Ryou felt disgusted with himself. Sure, he knew the Tomb Robber had killed people, he even remembered some of it. But he’d never actually _felt_ it.

 

He shivered and looked out the window as London sped away from him, eyes filling with tears.

 

 

* * *

  
  


“Bakura has the Horcrux.” Harry said looking at his friends in horror.

 

They were standing in the kitchen, Kreacher had taken Mundungus back to where he’d come from and was now bustling around the kitchen making lunch for the teens.

 

“What are we going to do?” Ron asked.

 

“We’ll have to find him.” Harry said, “Mundungus said he was hanging around Diagon Alley.”

 

“We can’t just walk into Diagon Alley!” Hermione stated.

 

“We don’t have much of a choice, do we?” Ron said bitterly.

 

“Look! We have to be clever about this,” she said, “One of us should take the invisibility cloak and go check it out - if he’s still there and if it even _is_ Bakura who took the Horcrux we can then use the information gathered. We can then use some of the Polyjuice Potion and go after him if we have to.”

 

“I’ll go.” Harry immediately volunteered.

 

The others looked uncertain.

 

“Harry -” Hermione started.

 

“It’s not like I’m going to be breaking into the ministry guys, I’m just scouting out information.”

 

Looking resigned, she said, “Alright, we’ll take turns scouting it out and try to gather where he is and how we’ll get to the locket.”

  


* * *

 

 

 

Pulling up at the hospital, Ryou paid the cab fare and as the vehicle pulled away, he stared at the building in front of him.

 

After a few minutes, he started moving again. He walked up the hospital steps and into the air-conditioned reception area. Looking around, he quickly noticed the information centre.

 

“Pardon me,” he said to the lady on the other side, “Do you know if Greg Anderson and Andy Smithson are still here?”

 

“Just a moment dear, I’ll check.” The woman said, smiling at the sweet looking boy before her.

 

“Hmm… They’re in building two, the long-term ward. Both of them are in room twenty-seven it seems.”

 

“Thank you.” Ryou said quietly.

 

“You should get that cut looked at dear, you wouldn’t want it to scar.” The lady said, peering at his face.

 

“Oh, um, s-sure. Thank you.” Ryou said, touching the scabbing cut self-consciously.

 

Walking away, Ryou felt like crying again. The two hadn’t woken up when the people in Japan had then. Blinking away tears at the lives they’d lost in those ten long years, Ryou walked to where they were staying.

 

The room they were in was quiet, Just the hum of machines in the background. Ryou looked at the still bodies on the beds.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Ryou whispered, “I never wanted this to happen.”

 

Ryou paused quietly as he remembered what had happened.

  


_“Hey Ghost boy!”_

 

_Eight-year-old Ryou looked up from his book and saw Greg and Andy run towards him._

 

_“Ye-yes?” the small boy squeaked, stuffing his book away in case the two decided to flush it down the toilet again. His mother had given it to him for his birthday; it was an encyclopaedia of urban legends and myths._

 

_“We heard your mum bought you the new Monster World role-playing game. The whole board!”_

 

_“Ye-yes, but it’s also my sister Amane’s.”_

 

 _“Whatever.” The boy shrugged, “What Greg and me want to ask you, since we’re_ friends and all, _is can we come over and play it after school?”_

 

_Ryou looked at them in surprise, he hadn't known they considered him a friend! And they wanted to play Monster World! The only person he’d been able to play against so far had been his little sister. No one else at school liked him much, at least he's thought so, and his sister’s friends weren’t into Monster World like the siblings were._

 

_Smiling at the two larger boys, Ryou nodded, “S-sure!”_

 

_The two larger boys grinned at him, “Cool, see you then Ghost boy.”_

  


_Ryou got home quickly, wanting to set the board up before his friends arrived. It didn’t occur to the naïve boy that they were just using him, but it did occur to someone else._

 

_“Ryou, you can’t trust those boys!” his sister Amane scolded. She was a year younger than him, but she knew Ryou was easily taken advantage of through harsh experience._

 

_“Remember when they gave you bruise on your stomach? And the time they laughed at the Egyptian Ring thingy father sent you?”_

 

_Ryou remembered. He’d taken the Ring to school only once. He hadn’t worn it, but he wanted to show everyone the gift during show-and-tell. Andy and Greg had laughed at him, calling it jewellery and telling him he was a girl for liking it. It had hurt more than any bruise._

 

_After school, Ryou had locked himself in his room and cried until Amane managed to entice him out with a game of Monster World._

 

_“Mother and me won’t even be here tonight,” Amane said, “The moment mother gets home from work I have my Ballet lesson.”_

 

_“I’ll be fine, they’re my friends.” Ryou smiled. Friends. The word made him feel so happy._

 

_After Amane had left with Mother, Ryou went to his room for awhile, waiting for the boys to arrive. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he looked at the Ring lying on his bedside table._

_It was very cool-looking._

_Picking it up, Ryou looked at it. The hoop at the top looked like it was supposed to be hung on something. Maybe it was a dream catcher; it did kind of look like one._

 

_Getting up, Ryou walked to Amane’s room. Digging through the seven-year-olds art supplies, Ryou found a long, thin brown strip of leather. Slipping it through the hoop, he twisted it around a few times before tying a knot at the end._

 

_For a moment Ryou just stared at it. The boys had said it looked like jewellery, maybe it was? Turning it over in his small hands, Ryou slipped the leather strap over his head, he felt a bit silly really, thinking about the two boys who’d be coming over soon. But he didn’t take it off._

 

_“I hope they’ll stay my friends forever. I wish they’d never leave.” Ryou sighed wistfully, looking down at the ring had reminded him how mean they had been to him... He honestly didn’t want them to go back to that._

 

_“I can grant that wish, landlord.” A cold voice spoke._

 

_Looking around and seeing no one, Ryou whispered, “Who’s there?”_

 

_“I’m you.” It said, “The part of you that will grant your wish, which can make your darkest desire a reality.”_

 

_Ryou didn’t remember much of what happened next. He remembered waking up around the Monster World board with Andy and Greg flopped over the table. When Mother and Amane got home he was in tears; the boys wouldn’t wake up!_

 

_His mother had sent him and Amane to their rooms while she called an ambulance and the boys parents._

 

_Sitting alone in his room, the voice spoke again, “Do you like your new dolls, landlord?”_

 

_“W-what?” Ryou sniffed._

 

_“The models I made, don’t they look just like them?”_

 

_Looking down at his hand he noticed for the first time he was holding two Monster World figurines. The faces were that of Andy and Greg._

 

_Ryou gasped._

 

_“Now they’ll be with you forever.” the voice laughed._

 

_“No! Put them back!” Ryou cried, “Make it better!”_

 

_Ryou was on his feet, tears flowing from his eyes._

 

_“I don’t want this!”_

 

_There was no response for a while; the only sound was Ryou’s sobs._

 

 _“Well then,” the voice said, “if this is how you’re going to be if I help you, you can just_ forget _!”_

 

_The Ring started to glow, and Ryou yelped in shock trying to pull it off. Almost immediately, however, he stopped moving. Suddenly, Ryou sat back down on his bed, thinking about his two friends._

 

_All memory of the voice gone, but the result still remained._

 

_The Ring still hung around his neck. That was where it would stay for years to come._

 

_Two figurines lay momentarily forgotten on the floor…_

 

He didn’t remember the voice until years later, when he moved to Domino and the Ring reacted to Yugi’s Puzzle. That day, on which the Ring had dug itself into Ryou’s skin and the spirit finally showed himself to the world and Ryou once more.

 

Ryou sighed, blinking away tears. He pulled his backpack off and unzipped it. He carefully removed two small Character Cases and opened them; pulling out the two figurines he looked at them.

 

“I’m sorry for all I’ve caused you to lose. You weren’t the best people in the world, but you were young. I’ve forgiven you for all you ever did, please do same for me” He whispered to the dolls.

 

Moving towards the beds, he held out the dolls and cried, “Soul Release!”

 

The dolls glowed white and dulled in his hands. Putting the dolls away again, he heard the two people on the bed stirring. Moving quickly, Ryou pulled his bag on and marched out the door.

 

He’d done what he could, he couldn’t help them get back the life they missed, but at least now they’d _had_ a life.

 

As Ryou strode down the corridor, he heard a nurse cry out in shock as she entered the formerly comatose boys’ room.

 

As he left the ward he turned into the toilets. Locking himself in a stall, he leant against the wall and cried, at long last letting out the pain he felt.

 

“Happy Birthday to me…” he whispered quietly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha... i guess i should finish editing and posting what i have of this?


	8. UDJE MEDU: EB - JUDGE: IMPURITY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip down memory lane

Harry found out enough about what he needed on his visit to the Alley under the cloak. He’d Apperated into a small alley around the corner from the Leaky Cauldron, checked that the cloak still covered him completely, before walking into the inn.

It turned out that he’d missed Bakura by probably less than an hour when he arrived at the Leaky Cauldron to find Tom the barman in an uproar.

 

“…Just left like that!” He was telling a ministry Auror, “Moments after that Commission lady and her guards went up.”

 

“So what you’re saying is the Muggle-born got away?” The official asked, he sounded quite nasty.

 

“That’s what I said,” Tom said, scowling at the sneering man’s focus, “I went upstairs to tell the lady he’d left, see? after he came downstairs and dropped off the key, but I couldn’t find her or her men.”

 

“Do you have any idea what might have happened to Dolores Umbridge?” the man asked.

 

Umbridge? Harry froze in horror, the scars on his hand tingling at the memory. He moved in closer, although it was hardly necessary – Tom was being quite loud.

 

“It’s the strangest thing!” he said, “I went to check the albino boy’s room – he never did give a name by the way –  it was clean as anything, despite cleaning not having been up yet. Very suspicious really! I checked the bathroom while I was there, and the first thing I noticed was this dark stain on the floor seemed a bit odd, since everything else was so clean, didn’t worry about it at first though, people spill things all the time, but then I noticed some burnt clothing remains in the fireplace.”

 

Tom paused to catch his breath before continuing. Harry’s ears had perked up with the mention of an albino boy. He would have moved closer, but the bar regulars were tightly packed around Tom and the Auror. Harry didn’t want to bump into someone and give the game away.

 

“I went to the mirror next, to ask what’d happened,” Tom said, his voice growing quiet, Tom paused for effect, “The mirror said he was covered in blood, dripping in the stuff! A huge gash across his face too; as if he’d been in a brawl. I ran down the stairs to see if I could still spot the guy, but he’d vanished into Muggle London. Since the officials still hadn’t been found I flooed the Auror office, sir. Thought it would be for the best.” He finished.

 

Harry listened numbly as mental images of the white-haired boy covered in blood probed his mind. It seems Ron was right; this guy was dangerous. It seemed strange that Umbridge would just vanish into thin air, not that Harry couldn’t help feeling somewhat vindicated at her disappearance and possible death. Unfortunately, that meant Bakura was gone from the wizarding world - and running around with a Horcrux on top of everything!

 

Harry left while the Auror took statements from regulars in the bar who were crowding around him, most of them had seen the guy; no one knew his name or anything about him though, except that he’d showed up and left in Muggle clothes.

 

Harry left quietly and Apperated back to Grimmauld Place, to tell the other’s the news. While they weren’t particularly sad about the disappearance and possible death of Umbridge either, they were still horrified at the idea of Bakura being _that_ dangerous and unstable. Harry did point out that it sounded like Bakura had been injured, and even Ron agreed that he could have been provoked, it was _Umbridge_ after all, but they agreed to be careful anyway. They didn’t have enough information to make any big assumptions about Bakura yet.

 

They wouldn’t be able to trace Bakura easily they’d established, not while he was in the Muggle world, but Hermione said she would try and track him down using Muggle means. So for the next while, they decided to focus on finding the other Horcruxes. For the most part. While Hermione checked different regional phonebooks and took a few trips to the Muggle library under the cloak or in a disguise to hopefully find a lead back to Bakura as well.

 

They also decided on regular visits to the wizarding world to try and scout out information after Harry’s short return. They decided against contacting any of their friends or family, but Harry knew that whenever Ron’s turn to scout came around, he would make a point of watching the twins shop from under the cloak. Harry knew Ron did this, even though he never mentioned it; mainly because he did it too.

 

While keeping an eye on the Alley, they also made a note to listen for any news of Bakura’s return or capture.

 

* * *

 

 

Ryou continued travelling slowly around Britain for the next few months, staying at inns and cheap hotels and visiting hospitals.

 

He soon found out that only the older victims were still in comas; the ones that had occurred just before he moved to Japan had all come out of it when Yugi had tried to release the souls back in Domino.

 

It was a relief, but it also saddened Ryou. It meant that the first ones had lost so much more. He didn’t visit any of the newly recovered people, or stay long enough for them to realise he’d even been there. He couldn’t face their anger and resentment. He just couldn’t bear the emotional strain on top of everything. Maybe it was selfish of him to think that way. But he just hoped that they would forget about him entirely.

 

During this time he used no Shadow magic other than that required to awake his old friends, and he stole nothing; choosing instead to use the money he’d saved and brought with him from Japan, and what was left in his old English bank account.

 

But it was over now, finally. He’d made sure that everyone was okay.

 

He wasn’t going back to Japan yet though. There was one more place he wanted to visit. He was finally going to Godric’s Hollow. The last house he’d lived in before his mother and Amane had died in a car crash.

Arriving at Godric’s Hollow Ryou, paid the cab fare and looking around to get his bearings in the familiar village, he walked past the old memorial towards where his house was, next to the old graveyard.

 

Arriving outside the picturesque house, Ryou pulled the house key out from under a rock in the garden. His father hadn’t had much of a mind for security, even now; with him leaving the house unattended for months at a time. Unlocking the door Ryou walked upstairs to his old room, dropping his bag on the bed he looked around. It was identical to when he’d left, his father hadn’t changed anything. The only difference was the thick layer of dust covering everything. Walking down the hall he paused outside Amane’s room. Opening the door, he saw the same room he’d always seen in his mind when remembering his sister. Closing the door again he returned to his room, walking into his memories.

 .

.

 

 

_They’d been on their way to pick father up from the airport, well; mother and Amane were. Ryou had stayed home; he knew his mother found it awkward to be around him because of the various times they’d moved on his account, and he didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable on the car ride to the airport. Amane had stuck by him though, even if she did say he could be scary at times. She was the only one he confided in._

_Father didn’t like him much these days, so it would only upset him if Ryou went with mother and Amane to meet him as well. Father had lost so much money moving houses so often. And to help… smooth situations over. He’d started spending more and more time on digs and at the museum in Japan doing paperwork to try and earn enough to keep his family afloat. Or maybe he just didn’t want to be in the same house as his son._

_It would be the first time he would be home in almost a year._

_Ryou had waited at home for them to return. He was looking forward to seeing his father; Ryou loved him despite his absence. Despite everything._

_Plus, things always felt better when his whole family was around. It was tense, especially around him, but he always_ remembered _it. He never had blackouts when they were all together. They made him feel safe._

_He’d been waiting for three hours when he started getting worried. It took an hour to get to the airport, and an hour back. Maybe they’d stopped over to get a pizza or something?_

_It was an hour later when he got a phone call from the hospital asking for his father. He’d told the man his father was getting picked up at the airport. He’d asked what was wrong. The voice didn’t tell him._

_It was past midnight when the phone rang again. Ryou was wide awake at the time, still looking out the window, waiting for the car to drive up. Picking up the phone he heard a noise and then a voice spoke, it was his father._

_“Ryou, there was an accident…” He heard._

_As Ryou listened to his father he felt his hearing start to buzz. Amane was dead on impact, his mother was still hanging on. For how long, or if she would make it; it wasn’t known._

_Ryou dropped the phone and next thing he knew a week had passed with no memory._

_He later found out his father hadn’t been home once in that time, he’d been at his wife’s side until the end._

_Things had moved quickly after that; his father had arranged things so that Ryou would be sent to his grandmother in Japan. Apparently, he wouldn’t have time to take care of Ryou with his work._

_Mother and Amane were buried in the old graveyard in Godric’s Hollow, just next to their house. Ryou only saw their graves once before he left._

_As Ryou boarded the plane alone on his eleventh birthday, he didn’t cry, and on the flight to the other side of the world he pulled out some paper and started to write;_

_Dear Amane,_

_How’s my little sister? I’m sorry I won’t be able to visit you, but I’m going to be living with Oba-Chan in Japan. I’m kind of worried; we didn’t speak much Japanese while we were living in England, and I remember mother would always giggle when we did. Remember how she said we sounded like ‘_ _かわいい がいこく ひと’_ _?_

_I hope I don’t make an idiot of myself; Oba-Chan doesn’t know any English according to dad, so it’ll be up to me to communicate._

_I’ll write again soon,_

_Love,_

_Your big brother, Ryou._

 

_._

_._

 

From that day onwards, whenever anything good or bad happened, he would write to his sister to tell her news of her brother. He saved every letter he wrote in a box under his bed, writing in English in case his grandmother found them.

 

When his grandmother had died, Ryou’s father had sent him money to rent an apartment. Ryou was worried by that because, by himself, he was remembering less and less, but when he’d wake up with soulless bodies around his Monster World table he would feel something inside him sink deeper into dread as he realised it was time to move again.

At one point, a police enquiry had even forced him to stay in Egypt with his father until things were cleared up. He still remembered all of that. He’d met a few of father’s colleagues, but he’d been told to avoid talking about why he was there to them. He’d spent most of the time in his father’s tent reading, although he did see a few kids his age, his father told him to avoid them. Ryou didn’t need telling, he hadn’t wanted anything to happen to them because of him.

 

So it continued, until he arrived in Domino…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, i'm back in the yugioh pit so I'll try to edit and catch this fic up a bit faster from now on!


	9. CHAPTER NINE: URD – WEARY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time spend in Godric's Hollow.

Ryou had been staying in Godric’s Hollow for several weeks now, for the most part, he stayed at home, cleaning the unused house or arranging his Duel Monster’s deck. Every day, however, he would walk to the graveyard behind the house and sit by his little sister’s grave.

 

He told her everything that had been happening, from the big things to the small. It was different to writing letters. He couldn’t pretend she was still alive sitting next to her grave. But he still found that he felt better talking to her.

 

His first few days in the village had been quiet, until one day while walking from the small supermarket, a bag of groceries in his arms, he heard a voice.

 

“Ryou Bakura?”

 

Startled, and almost dropping his bag, Ryou turned around and saw a tiny old lady.

 

“Ryou, is that you dear?” She said, hobbling towards him.

 

“Granny Bagshot?” he said in surprise, recognizing the eccentric old lady. The old lady, who’d lived around the block to him years before, looked almost identical to how he remembered her. She was tiny, her face sagging under the weight of her wrinkles, her eccentric clothing covering her in layers of mismatching colours. 

 

The kids in the neighbourhood had always called her Granny Batty or Batty Bagshot, but Ryou had never found himself capable of calling her names with the other children, even if she did often talk about the strangest things at times and have the strangest house. He just couldn’t be mean to her.

 

“It is you! Do you remember me? I used to come for tea with your mother when the poor dear was still around.” She said loudly.

 

“Granny Bagshot?” He said again, “You’re still alive?” he blurted out, before covering his mouth with one hand and blushing at his faux pas.

 

The old lady laughed, “Now, I may be near two-hundred but there’s no call for that!” the crooked old woman grinned a wicked grin.

 

“Sorry,” Ryou said, lowering his head, still mortified at his words. 

 

“Don’t worry about it dear! How have you been? You haven’t been here since the funeral, are you here with your father?” She asked, looking around as If he might pop out of the bushes at any moment.

 

Ryou shook his head, “No, he’s still in Egypt.”

 

“Well, you must come over! I can’t have you being all alone with nobody to talk to! Why don’t you come over for tea this evening?”

 

“Um, sure. I’d love to!” Ryou smiled.

 

“Lovely!” The old woman said, “I’ll just go tidy up the house a bit before you come over, is five alright?”

 

“Oh, yes.” Ryou said, “Do you need any help cleaning? I don’t mind helping.”

 

“No, no dear,” She said quickly, “I can manage that much by myself, don’t worry yourself about it.”

 

With that, the old lady gave Ryou a small goodbye before heading home. Ryou returned home as well, wondering if he should bring something for the old woman. In the end, he ran down to the shops for the second time that day and bought a small cake to take with to tea for dessert.

 

He arrived at her house a few minutes early but was welcomed in by the old woman. Her house felt the same as it had been when he was young, piles of old books formed pillars down the corridor and in the rooms, their titles and most of their covers obscured from view due to age or angle. There were no photos on the walls, and the only paintings were dusty still-life. There were a few piles of newspapers, but they were neatly secured under the books or tables. The smell of cooking wafted through the house from the kitchen.

 

“I brought this,” Ryou said to the old woman, handing the cake to her.

 

“Lovely!” The old woman smiled, taking it from him with care, “Why don’t we go into the kitchen then?”

 

Following her into the kitchen while making small talk was nice, Ryou realised this was the first real conversation he’d had in almost three months.  

 

“So dear, what brings you to the Hollow?” Granny Bagshot said, pouring him a cup of tea while motioning for him to sit at the table. The table was already set, with a small but warm and hearty meal just waiting for both of them.

 

“I wanted to visit Amane and Mother,” Ryou said softly.

 

The old lady nodded in understanding, “I understand. I remember when they passed away. Your father called me to check up on you while he was at the hospital.”

 

This was news to Ryou, who still couldn’t remember that week, “He did?”

 

“Oh yes, I came around to your house every morning that week. You wouldn’t let me in the house though. Gave me quite a fright with the expression you gave me every time I came by, though!”

 

Ryou flushed and quickly apologised.

 

“Nothing to apologise for dear; you were only ten weren’t you? And grief can cause unfortunate reactions.” The old lady sighed, “I remember there was an incident many years back involving my great-nephew’s dear friend Albus at the time. His little sister was killed in an unfortunate accident, but his younger brother blamed him. The poor boy ended up breaking poor Albus’s nose in the middle of the funeral. It never quite healed right either.” she shook her head sadly.

 

Ryou listened to the old woman talk. Not knowing who the people she spoke of were he did find things a bit boring, but at the same time, it was comforting to hear the familiar old woman dither on about things and people he didn’t know. It reminded him of when Granny Bagshot would come visit his mother and they would talk while he and Amane would eat cake or play in the kitchen.

 

It was nice, and Ryou enjoyed the evening. 

 

Since then, Granny Bagshot had insisted Ryou come over  _ every _ evening for tea, much like how his mother had visited the old lady and Granny Bagshot had visited his mother when she was around. 

And in the mornings the old lady would show up with some baking, - which would vary dramatically in quality - or a story about someone she’d met at the market, or about her great-nephew and his best friend – both of whom were apparently dead now.

 

Ryou didn’t mind and found the old lady’s presence relaxing in its familiarity.

 

“It’s Christmas next week,” she said one day while sitting in Ryou’s kitchen sipping tea.

 

Ryou looked surprised, “It is? Time has flown hasn’t it,” he mused.

 

“Some of the ladies in the village are holding a little get together at the church, I’m sure they’d be delighted if you could join us.”

 

“Thank you, I’d be honoured.” Ryou smiled. He hadn’t met many people around the village yet, he hadn’t even explored anywhere other than the graveyard, his street and the small circle of shops.

 

The next day, however, Granny Bagshot didn’t come to visit in the morning. He wasn’t too concerned at this since she didn’t always come over early. By early afternoon, however, he was worried. Normally he would have seen her walking around by now at least. 

 

She is very old…

 

Pulling on a jacket, he walked out of his house and walked down the street to her house where he knocked on the door. 

 

There was no answer. 

 

He turned the doorknob. The door was unlocked.

 

He pushed the door open and walked inside. Things looked surprisingly different to how the house normally looked when he visited. There were dusty photo frames on the mantel, and there seemed to be more movement out of the corner of his eye than usual. It wasn’t the time to worry about that though.  

 

“Granny Bagshot?” He called out.

 

There was no answer.

 

Ryou felt panic start to rise as he looked around the house for her. Suddenly, he heard a small noise from the attic.

 

“Granny Bagshot?” he yelled, running up to the attic ladder and clambering up.

 

There, lying on the floor was the gagging figure of Granny Bagshot. Standing over her was… Granny Bagshot.

 

“Granny Bagshot?” he whispered.

 

The standing figure turned with grace unbecoming of the clumsy old lady. Its eyes were slits, and its skin seemed loose and drooping in a way that drew attention to the lack of colour in her face. As if there was no blood flow. 

 

This wasn’t Granny Bagshot. 

 

Ryou took a step backwards, staring into the creature's eyes.

 

“ _ Who are you _ ?” Ryou yelled.

 

The figure turned its head, as if not fully understanding before whispering, “ _ How do you ssspeak _ ?” 

 

“ _ What are you talking about? What did you do to her _ ?” He yelled again.

 

Not answering, the doppelganger dove at him, skin falling off in distorted tatters of it as it attacked, revealing a giant snake.

 

“ _ You ssspeak! Massster sssaid to kill the other ssspeaker!” _ Ryou heard the serpent scream.

 

Moving to the side, Ryou dodged the snake as it flew heavily out of the crumpling human form. A giant talking snake! Ryou realised in horror. 

 

Swearing at himself, he realized now it’d been dumb to leave his knife at home. Nowhere was ever safe, not when it came to his luck. Looking around the room for some kind of weapon, Ryou caught a glance at the old lady and his breath caught in his throat.

 

She was breathing irregularly and blood was dripping down the corner of her mouth at a steady rate. She didn’t look like she had long. Ryou reconsidered summoning the Shadows; he could see that she wouldn’t survive in them in her condition.

 

He’d have to use his own Ka, Diabound to fight. First things first though…

 

Throwing a small box of books at the snake as it moved to strike him, hitting it in the head and causing it to swerve away from him, he pulled his deck out quickly pulled the card he needed.

 

“Dian Keto the Cure Master!” He summoned the spell creature.

 

A kindly green-haired figure appeared and moved towards Mrs Bagshot, hands glowing. Ryou felt drained, he hadn’t used magic for a long time now and using his own body’s energy to help sustain the spell rather than the Shadow Realm was painful.

 

The snake twitched, startled by the presence of another person. As the snake refocused its attention on Dian Keto, Ryou used the opportunity to call out again.

 

“Diabound!”

 

Dropping the energy to Dian Keto to summon his Ka, the spell vanished just as the snake lunged at the afterimage. Mrs Bagshot was breathing easier, and the bleeding had slowed, but she was far from better. Ryou knew he had to take care of the snake first now that she was out of critical condition though. If the snake killed him he wouldn’t be able to save anyone.

 

“Diabound, attack!” he called as he rolled to the side, hitting his shoulder hard at an unnatural angle as the snake dove yet again.

 

His Ka moved out of the air and its own snake-like tail ripped at the attacking serpent. Blood sprayed out the bite on the snake’s side, staining the boxes to the side dark brown with the absorbing blood.

 

It hissed and dove at the Ka madly, fangs clamping down on Diabound’s arm.

 

Ryou gasped in pain and clutched his own arm. He could feel the venom in his system from where Diabound was attacked. Diabound had to hurry. He would die if his Ka was defeated at this rate.

 

Realising this, Diabound quickly brought its other arm around and pulled at the snake, which refused to let go, leaching its venom into Ryou’s system. Diabound gave a low noise, and tightened its grip on the snake, and jerked it with amazing force, ripping it in half and slicing through his own arm as the fangs cut across the skin and sinew from the force. Its head still clamped on its arm, while Diabound dropped the slowly writhing body. 

 

Immediately, Ryou released his hold on the Ka and it vanished back to him, the snakehead dropping to the ground with a thud, splashing in a thick puddle of the snake’s own blood.

 

Dizzy and feeling as if he hadn’t eaten in days, Ryou fell to the ground completely. Head spinning as he stared at the attic roof. The poison in his system burned as if he was being dissolved from the inside out. Struggling to his knees, and almost throwing up at the effort he managed a whisper.

 

“...Dian Keto…” He gasped.

 

His vision tunnelled as the heavy set shape of Dian Keto materialised before him. Struggling to retain consciousness, to keep the connection going, he stared at the figure as he breathed heavily, refusing to pass out. 

 

He didn't know how long he sat on his knees breathing, but eventually, he felt his strength return somewhat as the spell monster healed him. 

When the venom was finally out of his system, he dropped the spell again immediately, unable to sustain it a second longer. He moved towards Mrs Bagshot, his entire body still shaking and nauseous. Reaching her, he noticed how pale she was. Grabbing her arm with unsteady hands he fumbled his fingers over her wrist and tried to focus over the sound of his own laboured breathing, checking her pulse. It was slow, but there.

 

Fumbling, he pulled out Dian Keto and tried to summon the magic again. The image flickered before vanishing. It didn’t work. He tried to focus, but all he could feel was the swaying of his body as he tried desperately to stay upright. He was too exhausted. He couldn’t do this.

 

You couldn’t replenish magic with more magic. He realised in a distant way that he probably shouldn’t have used Diabound to fight. If Diabound had been destroyed, Ryou would be dead now. That hadn’t been smart.

 

It was too late now though. He blinked again, trying to bring his mind back into focus.

 

In desperation, Ryou grabbed the old lady and shook her lightly, trying to find some response. 

 

With a clatter, something rolled out her sleeve. Looking down Ryou’s breath caught in his throat.

 

It was a wand.

 

The whole world seemed to pause.

 

Was Mrs Bagshot a witch? It… it made sense, now that he thought about it. A lot of sense.

 

But, no. Ryou didn’t have time to worry about that. He grabbed the wand and in his rising panic, and his desire to not leave the dying woman alone, he tried calling out one of the few wizard spells he could vaguely recall from his time in the alley.

 

“Aco phone! Aci phone!” He tried trying to remember the incantation, brain still humming, “Summon the phone already! Akito phone! Work,  _ please _ ! Accio phone!”

 

Hoping it would work, as he rattled off different variations, his voice shaking more with each attempt, never having used a wand before, he was finally rewarded with a cordless phone zooming up the stairs. Grabbing it in his fumbling grip, he quickly dialled an ambulance and gave directions before looking back down at the old woman.

 

“Hang on…” he whispered to her, his voice cracking and weak. 

 

The woman opened her eyes and looked at Ryou blearily, as if not recognising him.

 

“D…eath Eaters…” she choked out before her eyes rolled back and she fell unconscious again.

 

“Just hang on…” Ryou said, eyes burning with rage he didn’t realise he still had the energy to sustain. 

 

 

* * *

 

  
  


Even with the Golden Trio’s constant visits to the wizarding world under the cloak, they were still nowhere near finding the Horcruxes. Hermione had given the boys several large books on Dark magic to study during this painfully hopeless time, which covered a few aspects of Horcruxes. The reason being, even if they did find them, they still had very little idea on how to destroy them.

 

They’d decided against contacting anyone they knew, not wanting them to suffer retaliation if it was discovered. From keeping an eye out in the Alley, however, they had seen several of the Weasley’s at one point or another. 

 

They’d been overjoyed to read in the Daily Prophet about how the disappearance and possible death of Umbridge had delayed the Muggle-born Registration, and as a result, many Muggle-borns had been able to flee the country or find somewhere safe to hide before the organisation had gotten back on its feet. Of course, the Prophet didn’t put it that way. The article had actually said;

  
  


“ _ …Several hundred ‘Muggle-borns’ have as of yet, not come forward for registration. As the general public is well aware, the investigation into whether these people have stolen their magical abilities from real witches and wizards, and their potential threat to our health and livelihood is currently underway within the Ministry of Magic. _

 

_ The postponement of the Muggle-born Registration Committee was caused by, as is well known, the disappearance of Dolores Umbridge, who was the leader and organiser of said Committee. She was last seen with two other ministry members who were following up several leads in regards to Muggle-born locations a few months ago. _

 

_ It is believed that they were cruelly murdered by one of the people they were following up on, highlighting yet again how dangerous and animalistic these people, barely worthy of being called human, are. _

 

_ A list of the currently unregistered Muggle-borns and suspected Muggle-borns will be sent to all wizarding families early next week. Due to the length of the list, we are unable to reproduce it here. Remember; if you see any of the people on this list, please attempt to restrain them before contacting the Auror office or bringing them to one of the locations listed below…” _

  
  


They’d managed to get a hold of one of the lists, which was self-updating, and were relieved to find out just how many people had managed to escape thanks to the disorder at the ministry.

 

On the other hand, they had made very little progress in locating any Horcruxes. They were growing sick of it and were snapping at one another constantly. One day, sick of just sitting around, Harry walked into the kitchen where Hermione was sitting with Ron.

 

“I want to go to Godric’s Hollow.” He said shortly, expecting reprisal for his words.

 

Surprisingly, Hermione nodded in agreement, “Yes I’ve been thinking about that.”

 

“You have?” Harry blinked, completely thrown off.

 

“Yes, it sounds like a possible location for a Horcrux, given Voldemort’s habits. Plus,” she grabbed a book from the table, “It’s where Bathilda Bagshot lives.” She was holding up her copy of A History of Magic with both hands in reverence.

 

“Didn’t she know my parents and Dumbledore?” Harry asked, taking the book from her and flipping to the author’s photo.

 

Hermione nodded, “I was thinking she might know something we don’t, what with her being a historian. I was thinking of looking up her address the Muggle way since Godric’s Hollow is apparently a Muggle village for the most part. She should be listed there.”

Taking a breath, she continued, “We’ll have to use disguises. Voldemort will probably be watching the area. We still have Polyjuice Potion, and if we get some Muggles' hairs we can sneak around with no problem.”

 

Harry nodded, “Sounds like a plan.” He would have said more, but at that moment, his scar burned in agony, causing him to stifle a gasp.

 

Rushing out of the kitchen, he stumbled into the downstairs bathroom and locked the door. Collapsing against the door, he struggled to regulate his breathing. Images of masks and robes flashed in front of his eyes, none showing any real clarity. He hadn’t had many visions lately, despite his neglect of Occlumency. It had seemed Voldemort was actively blocking Harry himself. 

Still, even without the visions, his scar would still hurt on and off; whenever Voldemort was feeling any particularly strong emotion. He wished it would show him something useful though. All he could feel was red hot anger.

 

Complete rage.

 

He faintly heard knocking on the door. He ignored it, focusing on Voldemort’s anger. A sudden image flashed in his mind and he suddenly found himself seeing through Voldemort’s eyes; 

 

_ There was blood. Boxes full of old books. It looked like an old cluttered attic. A bloody tail of a snake lay still on the ground. The head was nowhere to be seen. _

 

_ Nagini?  _

 

_ The anger wasn’t leaving; it was growing at the sight of the beloved serpent dead and slain. How could she be killed? She was a Horcrux, a part of his soul!  _

 

_ Whoever had done it was gone, as was the woman Nagini had gone after. _

 

_ He felt his-Voldemort’s wand raise and an angry whisper; _

 

_ "Incendo." _

 

_ Fire shot out of the wand and flowed over the old dry boxes and books, catching light instantly. Voldemort stood still, watching the flames spread quickly towards the headless snake. The blood around the severed tail was still damp in spots and caused the fire to hiss as it moved to consume Nagini.  _

 

Voldemort stiffened, and Harry jerked back physically. Voldemort had sensed Harry’s invasion and had forced him back, blocking him entirely from his mind yet again.

 

Harry stared at the ground, breathing heavily. He could hear Hermione’s frantic voice at the other side of the door. He opened his mouth to reply but stopped before he even started. He couldn’t trust his voice just yet. He slowed his breathing, and after a few minutes he felt up to replying.

 

“I’m okay guys.” He said loudly.

 

There was a pause and some scuffling before he heard Ron say, “Harry! Open up mate, we need to talk to you.”

 

Looking in the bathroom mirror, Harry checked his appearance before opening the door. His two friends stood in the door frame for a moment before pushing their way into the bathroom. Harry sat down on the edge of the old claw-footed bath and looked at them.

 

“What?” He asked.

 

Hermione looked at him in exasperation, “What?” she said, “What just happened, was it another vision from Voldemort?”

 

Harry nodded, “He was angry. Something killed Nagini.”

 

They looked at him in silence for a moment, before Ron asked, “Wasn’t – Wasn’t Nagini a Horcrux?”

 

Harry nodded, he remembered being inside Voldemort’s head moments ago. He’d confirmed that Nagini was a Horcrux in those few minutes he’d spent in the Dark Lord's mind.

 

Hermione didn’t look happy, “Harry, you  _ are  _ still keeping up with your Occlumency, aren’t you?”

 

Harry shook his head, “Hermione, you know I’m no good at it. There’s no point in it.” 

 

Harry wouldn’t say it out loud, but often he was almost grateful for the connection. It had let him save Mr Weasley’s life, and despite the pain, it gave him insight into his enemy’s mind.

 

Hermione bit her lip before saying, “Harry, please! It’s not safe! Can you at least try it? I’ve got some books in the living room that could help.”

 

Harry looked blankly at her for a moment, “There’s no p-”

 

“-No point, yeah we know,” Ron cut in, speaking up, “It’s not about that mate, think about it like this; what’s the harm? Plus, it’ll make me and ‘Mione feel better.”

 

Harry looked at the earnest expression of his oldest friend and sighed, “Alright. I’ll give it a shot.”

 

His friends both broke into relieved smiles.

 

Ron looked around the small bathroom, “Why are we still in here?”

 

Hermione laughed lightly, “Let’s go back to the kitchen, I found the residential phone book for the area containing Godric’s Hollow.”

 

“Yeah.” Harry agreed, standing up and stretching.

 

The trio walked out of the bathroom to the kitchen, which had been cleared of parchments and books by Kreacher, who had placed three steaming plates on the table, each with a beautifully garnished steak and baked potatoes, a large jug of juice sat in the middle of the table. The house elf had just placed a bowl of salad on the table when they entered.

 

“Kind Masters’ lunch is ready!” the old elf said happily.

 

“Thank you Kreacher,” Hermione said with a smile, “If you don’t mind my asking, where did you put the phone book that was sitting over there.” She pointed to the left-hand corner of the table.

 

“Kreacher is putting it by the others in the library. He can go fetch if nice mud – Miss is wanting it.”

 

“Oh, no,” Hermione said, deliberately ignoring the near slip-up the elf had, “I’ll get it. Don’t worry Kreacher. You guys can start eating so long.” She added, looking at the boys before running upstairs to the library.

Ron rolled his eyes, “Honestly, I don’t understand it,” he said to Harry as they took seats around the table, “Kreacher finally  _ wants _ to help, and Hermione still manages to go all SPEW on us in the middle of a war.”

 

He cut a huge chunk out of his steak and shoved it in his mouth, effectively cutting off anymore that could be said by him in the matter. Harry grinned at Ron as the boy actually tried to say something, before realising just how much meat he had shoved in his mouth, and choosing instead to start chewing industriously while scooping some salad onto his plate. Harry shook his head as he poured himself a glass of juice.

 

“Guys…” They looked up as Hermione walked back through the door, a large phone book open in her hands.

 

“What is it, Hermione?” Harry asked, looking at the strange expression on her face, “Did you find Bathilda Bagshot?”

 

She nodded and said, “Well yes, but that’s not it.”

 

She walked over to the table and carefully put the book down so as not to knock anything over, before pointing at one of the names in the book.

 

“I was paging through the ‘B’s in Godric’s Hollow. I’d accidentally skipped a few pages while I was walking downstairs, and this caught my eye.” She said, still pointing.

 

“What is it?” Ron asked, trying to peer through Hermione’s hand.

 

She looked at Ron, “Ron, do you know what Bakura’s father's name is?”

 

“Er,” Ron looked taken aback, “No, we just called him Professor Bakura or Mr Bakura when we met him, why?”

 

Hermione sighed, “Because, there’s a house listed as belonging to  _ a _ Bakura in Godric’s Hollow!”

 

The two boys scrambled out of their chairs and around the table to where Hermione was standing. True enough, there was a listing for a Ryuji Bakura.

 

“Ryuji Bakura?” Harry said, “So you think they’re related?”

 

Ron shrugged, not attempting to talk after having stuffed a baked potato he’d grabbed from his plate into his mouth, not wanting to spray food over Hermione.

 

“We don’t know if it actually is any relation. Not with any sort of  _ actual  _ certainty,” Hermione said quietly.

 

“Doesn’t mean we can’t check it out when we go there,” Harry said.

 

“That’s true,” She said softly.

 

There was a growling noise, and the boys stared at her in surprise. Hermione blushed in embarrassment, “Let’s eat while we plan things though!”

 

The trio returned to their seats and continued their meal, discussing their plans for Godric’s Hollow as they ate Kreacher’s delicious meal.

 

The plan of action had upped everyone’s spirits as they prepared their scheme to go to Godric’s Hollow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have another chapter for your patience.


	10. KHEI HEDJ – WHITE APPEARANCE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet again...

It was Christmas Eve when Harry, Ron and Hermione arrived in Godric’s Hollow. They’d spent the last few days working on how to proceed when they arrived at the Hollow, and had decided on a path to follow during their time there.

They planned to Apperate to the edge of town nearest the graveyard, under the invisibility cloak of course, and from there visit the graves of Harry’s parents before looking for Bathilda, who they _knew_ lived in the village, before checking out the address listed as belonging to _a_ Bakura, and while Bakura was a priority due to his holding a Horcrux, they still didn’t know if it was actually him, or even anybody related to him who lived there.

 

They were under the effects of the Polyjuice potion when they arrived; Ron looking like a balding old man with Hermione as his mousy wife and Harry as their adult son when they arrived at the edge of the village. Making sure the coast was clear; they pulled the cloak off, which was barely big enough to cover the three of them in their current forms at any rate, and was more of a hindrance at this point anyway.

 

It was snowing lightly, icing the village in a way that made it seem unreal and postcard-like in the late afternoon light.

 

Wandering around the small town they walked through a small square towards the graveyard, where they noticed the War Memorial. Walking close they gasped when it suddenly changed into a statue of Harry’s Parents with a baby boy clutched in his mother’s arms.

 

“Harry…” Hermione whispered.

 

“Blimey, is that..?” Ron said in the same tone.

 

Harry studied the statue, saying nothing. He was looking at his parent’s smiling faces captured in wrought metal, and the happy baby looking up at the parents dotting faces. Looking at it, Harry felt tightness in his chest. The baby had no scar on its forehead. This was what things could have stayed like for him if they were still here...

 

No, it wouldn’t have stayed like that. Voldemort was still around then, as he is once more. Who knows how much longer that happiness would have lasted before his parents, and the people who survived the last war, died, because his mother was never made to make that sacrifice?

 

Looking away he looked at the others and said, “Come on. We’ve wasted enough time here.”

 

They walked down the street and up the next one when they saw the graveyard. There was a church on the grounds, and Harry could hear carolling inside. Walking along the side, into the graveyard, Harry noticed a few footsteps in the fresh snow inside the graveyard.

 

Looking at the others, Hermione shrugged, “We look like Muggles; it’ll be okay.”

 

Nodding, the three of them made their way into the cemetery.

 

It took them awhile as they silently searched the gravesites for Harry’s parents, but just as he was getting ready to give up, Ron called out.

 

“Oi! Harry, over here!”

 

Moving over to where his friend stood, Harry looked at the white marble headstone.

 

_James Potter, born 27 March 1960, died 31 October 1981_

_Lily Potter, born 30 January 1960, died 31 October 1981_

 

_The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death._

  


Reading the words slowly, he felt his eyes grow hot. Soon he was crying, tears slipping down his face, burning against his cold skin. He didn’t bother wiping them away, or pretend that he wasn’t weeping quietly, and his friends didn’t comment. They just stood there together in silence.

 

After a while with nothing but the sound of the light wind fluttering the gentle snowfall around them, Ron broke the silence, “Bloody hell, is that a person?”

 

Looking at where he was pointing, Harry saw a thin figure leaning against a gravestone a few rows over. It looked like he’s been there awhile; his head and shoulders were white, covered in snow. He wiped his eyes dry and forced himself to focus.

 

Hermione looked nervously at the figure, “Should we see if they’re alright? They look dead.”

 

Harry nodded, finally wiping his face to clear his vision.

 

Moving over to the figure, Ron called out, “Hey, you!”

 

The thin frame jumped, shaking the snow off his shoulders, revealing identically coloured hair underneath.

 

Looking at them, the figure said, “Pardon? Were you talking to me?” His pale eyes wide and nervous.

 

The three of them gasped.

 

It was Bakura.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Christmas Eve hadn’t started off well for Ryou; in fact, the whole week had been pretty bad.

That morning he’d caught a bus into the city to visit Granny Bagshot in the hospital. She was still in bad condition, and the doctors were pessimistic about her outlook.

 

He’d been admitted as well when the ambulance had arrived last week, but the doctors cleared him after only two days in the hospital, leaving him to worry about Granny Bagshot.

 

They’d taken the dead snake’s head with them when the ambulance came so that they could check its venom at the hospital. Apparently, the snake was quite deadly. But they told Ryou they’d gotten to her just in time. Apparently she had surprisingly little venom in her system considering the type of snake, Ryou thanked Dian Keto for this. Unfortunately her age was a major issue, and they didn’t expect her to hang on.

 

He couldn’t even bring her something from her home to cheer her up in the few moments she would awaken while he visited.

 

Her house had burned down while they were at the hospital, apparently only hours after they’d left. It was assumed by the fire department that in the rush to the hospital something must have been knocked over or left on. No one was calling arson, although Ryou was suspicious. He’d been there, and he hadn’t seen anything that could have caused the fire, that, and the fact that Granny Bagshot was a witch, and therefore would probably have had some method of preventing non-magical fires, at least he assumed as much.

 

He’d decided against going to the Christmas Eve gathering at the church, as well as the party planned by the ladies of the village on Christmas. Instead, he’d stayed at the old lady’s bedside at the hospital until mid-afternoon, before he went to buy some flowers.

 

It had been snowing gently when Ryou arrived back at the Hollow. Walking home, he went into the backyard of his house before climbing the fence into the cemetery. He would still have to walk past the side of the church, but at least he wouldn’t have to bump into anyone going through the front. He could hear the laughter and carolling, but it felt so far away, like another world in which he didn’t belong.

 

Walking over to Amane and mother’s graves, Ryou placed the flowers on them saying quietly, “Merry Christmas.”

 

Sitting down, he leaned against Amane’s cold gravestone and began telling her about his day.

 

Ryou felt quite warm, despite the snow, and he stayed where he was long after he’d finished talking. Feeling a bit fuzzy, the calm of the snow and comfort of the graveyard blanketing him, Ryou shifted against the grave and dozed off, barely noticing the light snow fluttering down on him.

 

In his sleepy state he vaguely heard some talking, but shook it off in his dozing state. There was no one here, not this deep in the cemetery; they were all at the church this evening.

 

“Hey you!”

 

Ryou jumped a mile, a mountain of snow sliding off him. Gazing around nervously, he spotted two middle aged people and a slightly younger man watching him.

 

“Pardon?” he said, “Were you talking to me?”

 

The three adults gasped.

 

“Bakura!” The older man blurted.

 

Looking at them in confusion he said, “I’m sorry, do I know you?” He didn’t recognise their faces, but then again, they may have been some of the church-goers who he might have met tonight if Granny Bagshot was okay, or possibly someone he’d run into at the supermarket.

 

The woman had grabbed the other two and was whispering franticly at them.

 

“Are you alright?” Ryou asked shifting nervously, “Do you guys live around here?” he added, just in case he should know them.

 

After a moment of silence, the balding man spoke, “No we don’t.”

 

Ryou frowned, “Then how do you know me?”

 

Silence again.

 

“Do you live here?” The woman asked curiously, as if she already knew the answer.

 

“Why do you want to know?” Ryou was getting suspicious, “Who are you people?”

 

The older man grabbed the other two and they whispered again.

 

“Is there somewhere else we can speak, that’s not so open?” One of them asked.

 

Ryou nodded nervously, he wasn’t sure about these people but at least he had his knife with him, as well as his deck this time in case something went wrong. He really hoped he wouldn’t have to use either.

 

“We can go to my house.” He said, motioning them to follow him through the gravesites.

 

Reaching the fence next to his house, Ryou turned to the three adults, “That’s my house,” he pointed, “You can walk around to the front if you go out the gate. I’m going over.” He said before jumping and pulling himself over the fence into his backyard.

 

Ryou looked back at the three old people who, to his surprise, started climbing over themselves. It was strange watching old people climb the fence, but they were soon over and Ryou motioned them inside.

 

Turning on the lights, he led them into the living room.

 

“Please, take a seat.” He said awkwardly.

 

They sat down, looking at Ryou. Fidgeting under their gaze he said, “Can I get anyone a cup of tea?”

 

The younger man shook his head, “No thanks. The truth is Bakura, you do know us.”

 

Looking at his companions first, they nodded slightly, he continued, “Do you recall back near the end of August when you were in -”

 

Ryou started in shock, knocking over a small coffee table. He’d spent the end of August in the wizarding world!

 

“Who are you people, Are you Death Eaters? Are you with the ministry?” He’d pulled out his knife and held it defensively in front of him. Mentally he screamed at himself for revealing his weapon so quickly, but his panic had overrun cold logic. 

 

At the sight of his knife the three moved quickly, pulling out their wands. Everyone froze, watching each other in a standoff. Before anything could happen though, the red-faced younger man yelled out with exasperation.

 

“Everybody stop!”  

 

The room looked at him as he lowered his wand deliberately.

 

“What I was saying was; I’m Harry Potter.”

 

Ryou looked at him and laughed, “No you aren’t. I may be a bit naïve, but I’m not an idiot. Where’s your proof?”

 

“If you wait ten minutes you’ll have it.”

 

“What, wait ten minutes and give your Death Eater friends the chance to sneak up on me? Not bloody likely!”

 

“Please!” the man said, “We promise we’re not Death Eaters!”

 

“Like hell I trust any wizard after what happened to Granny Bagshot!” He yelled.

 

There was a moment of silence before the woman spoke, “Bagshot? _Bathilda_ Bagshot? You know her?”

 

“Yes, and she might die because of that bloody snake!”

 

“What?” The woman squeaked, “She’s dying?”

 

Ryou narrowed his eyes, “Yes, why do you care?”

 

“Because we’re not bloody Death Eaters!” the older man yelled sounding annoyed, “And like you’re one to talk! We heard about what happened to Umbridge at the Leaky Cauldron, at least we’re not bloody murderers!”

 

Ryou’s gaze moved quickly and he stared at the man, his eyes hard and cold; before the pain of what had actually been said flooded through him; in the past few months he’d almost forgotten what had happened, having it brought up and thrown in his face like this…

 

Ryou dropped his knife, hands going weak and his eyes brimming with tears.

 

“H-how does anyone know about that?” he whispered to himself, all sense of self-preservation lost in his overwhelming emotions.

 

Falling on to the nearby armchair behind him heavily, as if the muscles in his legs had given out, Ryou brought his hands up to his face, head sinking into his lap. Reaching up he started grasping at his hair grief, elbows resting on his knees, silent sobs wracking his thin frame.

 

“It wasn’t supposed to h-happen. N-none of this is my problem, why can’t the world just l-leave me alone.” Ryou stuttered into his knees, “Why does this always follow me? I never wanted any of this - I should have just gone back to Japan!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you're enjoying this fic, I always love reading your comments!
> 
> Also, come stalk me on Tumblr if you feel like it (Same username)


	11. CHAPTER ELEVEN: KHEFTYU BINU SPER - EVIL ENEMIES ARRIVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explanations and emotions happen.

The golden trio looked at each other in undisguised horror. Bakura was collapsed into himself on the armchair, leaning over in on himself and shaking with the force of his distress. What were they supposed to do? This wasn’t the sort of thing they were expecting or were ready to handle.

Hermione was the first to move, mainly to send Ron a scathing look. After all, it was his fault Bakura was upset. She did feel hypocritical doing so though, mainly due to the fact that she was actually also extremely relieved. When Ron had blown up at the pale teen she’d been worried that Bakura would attack them then and there. He’d had a truly terrifying look in his eyes moments before he’d burst into tears. It had scared her, and she could see the two boys hadn’t yet recovered from the sudden change they'd seen too.

 

The Polyjuice potion was starting to wear off now, and as Harry felt himself change he shifted back into action, and decided to deal with the most pressing issue first. Pointing his wand at the knife Ryou had dropped; Harry quickly summoned it and tossed it into a far corner of the room, before casting _Muffliato_ on the area. The others noticed what he was doing and quickly soundproofed the house as well.

 

Bakura didn’t notice or didn’t care that his knife had gone.  He was still hunched over, hands tearing at his long hair, crying silently.

 

 Now that the knife was gone, Hermione slowly approached him awkwardly, feeling it was safer to try and comfort him now. The Polyjuice had worn off the trio completely now, and she didn’t want to startle the obviously unhinged boy.

 

“A-are you alright?” she whispered as kindly as she could, barely placing a fingertip on his shoulder.

 

Ryou didn’t reply, but he stopped moving.

 

“Bakura…” She reached out further and rested her hand fully on his shoulder.

 

He flinched hard very suddenly, pulling out of her loose grip he looked up at her. Hermione had ripped her hand back just as quickly.

 

His eyes were puffy and red and had a sadness in them that was so deep, so _ancient_ , that it was more painful to look at than anything else she’d ever seen. 

 

“You’re Hermione.” He said. His voice was almost calm.

 

She nodded, “That’s right. And I’m here with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.”  She was a bit unnerved at how quickly he seemed to calm down, and tried to keep her voice slow and soothing as she spoke to him. Ryou didn’t notice though, at the mention of Ron’s last name he blinked.

 

“Weasley? I didn’t know you were a Weasley.” he said, ignoring the mention of Harry Potter, which internally surprised the trio, “I know your brothers. Sort of.”

 

“Yeah, I know. Your dad used to work with Bill.” The redhead said awkwardly, not used to being singled out first while with his friends.

 

“I mean the twins, Fred and George. I met them in Diagon Alley. They were nice.”

 

He paused, “I don’t really know Bill very well. I only met him a few times, father didn’t want me to meet too many of his co-workers while I was in Egypt.” Ryou’s tone was calm, but it was a hollow calm. He was obviously babbling.

 

“You know the twins?” Ron asked incredulously.

 

Ryou nodded, eyes slightly glazed over, “They were really nice. They helped me out a lot while I was staying in the alley. Probably saved my life telling me about the… ministry.”

 

Harry was thinking about something else the albino had just said, “Why didn’t your father want you to meet his co-workers?” It was curiosity that made him ask this, rather than an actual need to know.

 

“He didn’t want news of the police investigation to get out.” The albino said quietly, wiping his face with a pale hand, “He had enough to worry about with me around, the spirit was still around then, bad things could’ve happened.” Bakura blinked after saying this, but didn’t show any other emotion.

 

The three looked at each other.

 

Hermione turned back to him and asked slowly, “What do you mean? What investigation, what spirit?”

 

Bakura slumped forward a bit with a sigh, before sitting up straight and slowly getting to his feet. The others took a step backwards, hands quickly strengthening their grip on their wands.

 

Looking at them with his dead eyes he said, “If I’m going to be interrogated I first want a cup of tea. I’ve had a hard enough day; and I haven’t even gotten dinner started yet.” 

 

With that, he ignored the wands pointing at him and pushed passed them into the kitchen. They followed him cautiously and watched as he filled a kettle and pulled open the fridge. He pulled out some vanilla cake and placed it on the counter.

 

Looking at the three teens he said, “There’re some blueberry muffins in the tin on the shelf. Granny Bagshot made them last week. They’re one of her better batches.”

 

While his tone of voice didn’t change, his eyes seemed to somehow dim even further when he mentioned Bathilda Bagshot.

 

When they didn’t move, he shrugged and grabbed the tin himself. As the kettle boiled, he placed four plates on the kitchen table, a muffin on each, before turning to the three again.

 

“What type of tea do you want? I have Sencha, Earl Grey and Rooibos tea.” At their silence he said, “I’m having Earl Grey, is that okay for everyone?”

 

They nodded, watching in bewilderment as Ryou walked around the kitchen, looking completely unlike the guy they’d seen holding a knife to them or crying into his knees. Although his movements seemed heavy and sluggish, as if he was dragging a heavy weight with him through the kitchen. It was like he was on autopilot, Harry thought to himself as he watched the boy mechanically go through the normal tasks.

 

They didn’t really know how to deal with him at all at this point. It was unnerving and concerning all at once.

 

Ryou poured four cups and set them around the table next to the muffins and cake.

 

“Please, have a seat.” He motioned to the table politely before taking a seat himself.

 

The three walked to the table slowly and sat down, not taking their eyes off the teen. Ryou was already eating his muffin and sipping at his hot tea. A bit of life seemed to return to him as he did so. After a moment he looked up from his food and looked pointedly at them.

 

“It’s not poisoned you know, although you might want to be a bit cautious around some of Granny’s baking.” He motioned at the tea and cakes, “And you don’t have to tread so lightly around me. Just ask what you need to, I promise I won’t lose control of myself again.”

 

“You won’t?” Ron asked sceptically, but stuffing his muffin into his mouth as he said it.

 

Ryou shook his head, “No. I apologize for my actions earlier. I... haven’t been my best of late; I’d just managed to get some of the more disastrous aspects of myself under wraps when Granny Bagshot was attacked last week.”

 

Hermione nodded, “You keep calling her Granny, are you related to her?” she asked curiously.

 

Ryou shook his head, “Oh no. she was just friends with mother, but she was as good as a grandmother to me and my sister.”

 

“You mentioned something happened to her, what?”

 

Ryou stared into his cup of tea in silence for a minute before he said, “She didn’t come to visit me here one day.” He paused, “She always visits me. So I went down the road to check on her, she’s really old so I was worried she’d died in her sleep or something. I went inside when she didn’t answer the door.”

 

Ryou clutched his tea mug hard, his knuckles going completely white.

 

“I found her in the attic. Something was standing over her, it looked just like her – but it was wrong. When it saw me, it started screaming about killing ‘the speaker’ and it attacked me. It was a giant snake of some sort - it was hiding in a copy of her skin. It spoke, which was weird, I’d never met a talking snake, but then again I haven’t really been near many snakes.”

 

“You understood the snake?” Harry asked dumbfounded.

 

Ryou nodded blankly at Harry's interruption before laughing sadly, “I managed to kill the snake… blood was everywhere.” He shivered slightly.

 

The trio looked equally disturbed.

 

“She was almost dead when I got to her. But she whispered one thing to me; _Death Eaters._ ” Ryou’s face narrowed in pointed anger.

 

 They gasped. And Harry looked ready to interrupt again, but Ryou continued talking.

 

“I shook her and her wand rolled out of her sleeve. I hadn’t known she was a witch; she never acted like one, at least not that I noticed. She always used non-magical things around the house.  I used her wand to summon a phone; I don’t own a wand myself not being a wizard and all. I phoned an ambulance and got her out of there.”

 

They sat in silence for a minute before Harry spoke.

 

“You said that last time we met. What do you mean you aren’t a wizard? The fact that you can do magic – use a wand, doesn’t that make you one?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then what are you?” Harry said, frustrated.

 

“I’m a Shadow Mage.” Ryou said softly.

 

“What? Shadow Mages don’t exist!” Hermione had stood up, “That magic died out over three thousand years ago in Egypt! We covered some of the history in Ancient Ruins while we were learning Hieratic!”

 

Harry and Ron looked at her in surprise; they had no idea what Bakura or Hermione were talking about.

 

Ryou nodded, “That’s true,” he agreed, “That’s why there are less than maybe ten of us in existence. The only way someone can have Shadow powers is through a link to the ancient past.”

 

“What does that mean?” Asked Harry.

 

 “Shadows? Sounds bloody suspicious to me; makes me think of dark magic.” Ron muttered sceptically. Harry couldn't help but mentally agree.

 

Ryou looked at him with his sad strange eyes and said, “The Shadows aren’t dark, they cannot exist without light, just like light cannot exist without dark.”

 

Hermione looked at Ron and said, “Ron, Shadow Mages are the users of an ancient branch of magic that originated in Ancient Egypt. It was used by priests and the pharaohs to protect and serve their kingdom. It was used to keep people _safe_ from what I’ve heard.”

 

She looked at Ryou, “If you’re serious would that make you a priest? I’m not sure though, there wasn’t much information available about the Shadowed era, and we were told that most knowledge of it was lost - if you’re telling the truth you have _got_ to tell me what you know about this.”

 

“I’m probably not allowed to tell you any thing else,” Ryou said ducking his head, “Isis would probably kill me for spilling tomb keeper secrets without her knowledge. Please ask me something else.”

 

Hermione’s implication that he was one of the pharaoh’s priests had made him uncomfortable. Telling them that he was a tomb robber and former enemy of Kemet hadn’t really been in his plans at any point, but now that she’d made the connection between Shadow Magic and the priests, the thought of telling her that he was practically the exact opposite of that image, well... it wasn’t a nice feeling.

 

Hermione didn’t look happy with his lack of response, it was obvious she wanted to know more, and Harry could see that she was about to push the matter. He motioned for her to let it go, at least for now. Hoping she’d remember they had more important reasons for being here.

 

“We want to know if you stole something in Diagon Alley,” Harry said, changing the topic back to the most pressing matter at hand.

 

Ryou looked at Harry before replying.

 

“Probably,” he muttered darkly.

 

“We’re looking for a gold locket with an ‘S’ on the front. Did you take it?”

 

Ryou was quiet before speaking, “I might have done so. I remember grabbing something like that off a shifty looking man in the Alley.”

 

“Great! Where is it now?” Harry asked excited.

 

“Banished to the Shadows, with everything else I got in the wizarding world.”

 

“What does that mean?” Harry asked, baffled.

 

“I really don’t feel like explaining.” Ryou said coldly.

 

Harry shivered; Ryou’s personality seemed to be shifting again, despite him saying he’d stay under control.

 

 “Can you get it back?” Harry pressed on.

 

“Why do you guys want it so badly?” Ryou shot back.

 

“It’s important to us.” He said.

 

“I figured as much.” Ryou said quietly, “I recall when I got it; I sensed something really strange about it.” He paused, “In fact now that I think about it, it felt a lot like soul magic. Sort of like when I used to seal parts of my own soul into objects.” 

 

“You created Horcruxes?” Harry was horrified.

 

“What’s a Horcrux?”  Ryou asked confusion evident in his eyes.

 

After a minute Harry spoke, hoping it was a misunderstanding, “Horcruxes are a dark, _evil_ magic. It’s a soul shard sealed into an object. As long as it exists, the person is basically immortal. A Horcrux is created when a ritual is done and a murder is committed. Is _that_ what you did?”

 

Ryou frowned, “It was just something I could always do, I can control and manipulate souls, not just my own. I haven’t done it by myself in ages though. I never killed anyone to do it either, nor did the spirit – I mean,” he was cut off.

 

Harry frowned, “you mentioned a spirit before. Are you possessed?” Harry remembered the article from the magazine Hermione had found.

 

Ryou’s eyes widened, “What?” he caught a hold of himself and shook his head, “Not anymore.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Exactly what I just said; not any more. Not for almost a year.”

 

“Who possessed you?” _Please don’t let it be Voldemort_ , Harry thought.

 

“Zorc; an ancient demon that had haunted my soul for three thousand years.”

 

“You’re three thousand years old?” Ron asked doubt evident in his voice once more.

 

“Only half of me. The half that was possessed. Half of my soul was sealed in an object, like that Horcrux thing you mentioned I guess, and as a result I’ve existed in some form for the past three thousand years. ” Ryou shook his head, “Can we not talk about it? The reason I came to Britain was to escape all that.”

 

“Sure, okay.” Harry said, despite his curiosity, “But we need the locket.”

 

“Is it one of those Horcrux things you mentioned?” Ryou asked curiously.

 

“…Yes.”

 

“Whose soul is inside it?”

 

“Voldemort's,” Harry said.

 

Ryou jumped the moment he’d said it, sensing the summoning magic in sick waves, “Don’t say his name!” He yelled.

 

He spun around to face the door, looking as if someone might attack at any moment.

 

“What? It’s just a name.” Harry said, startled at Bakura’s reaction. He hadn’t expected such a reaction from someone reasonably unfamiliar with the wizarding world.

 

“Like hell it is!” Ryou shouted, “You’ve bloody well alerted the Death Eaters to our position!”

 

The trio looked at him in horror.

 

“What -” Harry started, when there was a loud banging at the door.

 

“Oh hell!” Ryou swore, “It’s too late!”

 

The four were on their feet in seconds, three wands out. Ryou’s hand flicked to his belt for his knife, only to find nothing.

 

“Where’s my knife!” he whispered urgently.

 

“I chucked it into a corner earlier.” Harry whispered back.

 

There was yelling outside.

 

Ryou pulled at his hair, “We don’t have time for this! Diabound!”

 

The room shimmered and the snake tailed Ka monster filled the room. Ryou noticed Diabound looked much more reptilian than before, as a result of killing the snake.

 

Seeing Diabound warmed Ryou’s heart even now, it reminded him of how good at least a _part_ of his soul was at always adapting to bad situations.

 

Hermione let out a squeak when she realised they were surrounded by the monster, and Ron yelled out moments later. Harry just stared, eyes wide.

 

“Shut up!” Ryou hissed at them before turning to his Ka, “Diabound, get us out of here!”

 

The creature scooped them up and, smashing the house lights, it blended into its surroundings. It pulled them through the wall into the living room, where Ryou quickly grabbed his knife from the corner, hooking it on his belt before moving them out of the house silently. As Diabound pulled them through the garden, they saw masked figures surrounding and climbing into the house as they glided passed.

 

 Keeping away from the light of the street, where Diabound’s illusion would be hard to maintain, the Ka pulled them through the dark graveyard instead. There was little sound from the church, and Ryou wondered if the late service was over. They came to a stop at Amane’s grave, which was far enough from the house for them to speak unheard.

 

“What is this thing?” Harry asked in vague horror, staring at the Ka. The Ka looked down at him and made a face at his comment as if to say; ‘That’s the tone you use on someone who saved your life?’

 

Ryou however, was focusing on other things, “Oh God! I hope they don’t make a mess!”

 

The other’s looked at Ryou, who was looking back in the direction of his house, in surprise.

 

“I think we had more important things to worry about right now.” Harry hissed at him, but Ryou wasn’t listening.

 

“Father finally gets home in two weeks! Oh dear, what will he think if the house is completely demolished? I spent ages keeping it tidy!”

 

“Bakura, focus!”

 

With difficulty, Ryou sighed and pulled his eyes away from the direction of the house with difficulty, looked at them, “Do you have somewhere we can go?” He said, “I don’t think I can go home now because of you.” Bitterness was marked in his tone.

 

“Let’s just go back to Grimmauld Place!” Ron whispered, peering towards the house they’d just left nervously.

 

“But -” Hermione started, her eyes twitching towards Ryou.

 

“No, I think Ron’s right Hermione. Bakura, do you know how to Apparate?” Harry said.

 

“No! For the last time, I’m not a bloody wizard!” Ryou hissed back.

 

“Then hang on to us.”

 

Moments later, there was a small pop.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so Ryou was able to seal his own soul into dice in the original manga in an attempt to stop the spirit, destroying himself in the process. However because he also had a part of himself in the NPC White Wizard Bakura, he was ultimately able to come back because a part of his soul still remained, even with the spirit gone at the time. like the immortality granted by the Horcruxes, only without murder. So even *without* the spirit, Ryou himself could still manage an amount of soul magic alone in canon.
> 
> Thank you for reading and commenting! Your comments give me the motivation to continue editing and updating this!


	12. CHAPTER TWELVE: SHEUT DI ANKH DJET – SHADOWS GIVEN LIFE FOREVER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things are easily solved, other problems not so much.

They reappeared on a dark doorstep, Diabound still wrapped around them, and they quickly fumbled open the door and entered the house. A few minutes later they were all collapsed in the kitchen. Diabound was clearly visible in the light and the trio were staring at the monster in disgust.

 

 “Thank you Diabound!” Ryou smiled up at his soul beast before the Ka faded away back into his soul.

 

“What was that _thing_?” Harry asked; repulsion evident in his voice now that the monster and danger were gone.

 

Ryou looked at him sharply and said coldly, “Please watch your tone. I do not appreciate insults towards my Ka.”

 

“Ka?” Ron asked.

 

Ryou sighed and said, “That which distinguishes the difference between a living and a dead person - Diabound is a part of my soul. Unlike soul shards though, if Diabound is destroyed I’ll die.” Ryou said evenly, “My existence depends on Diabound, just like everyone’s existence depends on their Ka.”

 

“whoa, wait - we don’t have Ka, but we exist!” Harry exclaimed.

 

“Of course you have a Ka. Not being able to summon it doesn’t mean you don’t _have_ one. Only Shadow Mages can do that.” Ryou replied matter of factly.

 

“Look we have more important things to worry about right now!” Hermione stepped in, “How did those Death Eaters find us?” She asked Ryou.

 

Ryou laughed hollowly, “Because you,” he pointed at Harry, “Summoned them. In your idiocy you said the Dark Lord’s name. ”

 

 “But… A name is just a name isn’t it?” Harry asked, confused.

 

“You really are ignorant,” Ryou mused quietly, much to Harry’s anger.

 

“Well then enlighten us!” He growled back.

 

“A person’s name, their _Ren,_ contains more power than many things, similar to Ka; it’s a part of the soul. Normally it only works with a person’s birth name, at least traditionally. But from what Fred and George told me, the Dark Lord was reborn a few years ago. Which could mean his chosen name became his new Ren. It means this - the Dark Lord is using soul magic to signal him to anyone using his name.”

 

Ryou paused, he’d realised something!

 

“Oh no…” He whispered, his eyes wide.

 

“What? What now?” Ron asked.

 

“The idiot… I should have realised!” Ryou looked at the trio, “The Dark Lord is using powers he can’t control _only_ using Dark wizards magic! Only the Shadows can be used to manipulate the soul without permanent harm. This explains why he had to kill to create those Horcrux things - he’s bastardised the magic!”

 

Ryou was angry now. Voldemort was messing with the Shadows; as a Shadow Mage he was a part of the Shadows. That meant he couldn’t let this go. To hurt the Shadows was to hurt him, and his friends.

 

“I’ve got to destroy these Horcruxes and stop him. He’s _tainting_ the Shadows balance by doing this!” He stared at the trio, “Stand back!”

 

He raised his hands and pulled a hole in the Shadows. The trio shivered; it felt almost like Dementors were surrounding the room, drifting out from that one point.

Focusing on the hole he called out for the one item, since that would be easier than manually searching the Shadows for it. The locket shot out and he caught it in his hand. He then summoned up the Shadows around him and pulled a card out before calling;

 

“Dark Necrofear!” The blue woman cradling a doll walked out the Shadows into the Shadowed room.

 

The trio gasped in shock, the feeling of dread given off by the Shadows had been enough to make them forget to even draw their wands, but this creature woke them up.

 

“What the hell is that?” Ron yelled, wand pointing at the fiend. The doll in Necrofear’s arms swung its head around to face him and gave out a high pitched giggle; in his surprise Ron yelped and dropped his wand.

 

Ryou ignored them, “Necrofear, I need your help.” He lifted up the locket, “I know I left this in your guard, and I must first apologise for any suffering that has caused you. It was my fault I didn’t realise what it was sooner. Please help me destroy it.”

 

Dark Necrofear nodded her head mutely and Ryou smiled. Both of them focusing, the locket lifted into the air. After a minute Ryou frowned and leaned in to look at the locket as it spun around slowly in midair. Nudging it with his finger his eyes suddenly shot wide open, he pulled back and looked up at the Shadow Monster who nodded before he looked back at the snake pattern on the locket.

 

“It needs to be _opened_ …” He murmured.

 

The trio didn’t move or say anything, instead choosing to stand still watching what was happening with baited breath. It didn’t go unnoticed that the last word was hissed however, although Ryou blinked in surprise when he saw the locket suddenly click open.

 

Before he could react however, Necrofear shot her gaze at it and there was a loud crack that flooded the room. The locket broke in half and fell to the ground with an anticlimactic thud.

 

There was a collective gasp from the on looking trio.

 

Ryou himself suddenly felt lighter that he had in months.

 

“Thank you.” Ryou smiled up at Dark Necrofear and let the Shadows fade. The Shadow Monster placed her free hand on his head affectionately as she faded away.

 

Harry was gaping at the broken locket. Bakura had just destroyed a Horcrux in seconds! How could anyone be that powerful? If he could do that…

 

Harry realised something in amazement; did that mean the snake Bakura killed really could have been Nagini? Was Bakura the one who killed the snake from his vision? Did that mean they’d actually been that close to a location Voldemort had been only a short while before they’d gone to the Hollow? Things started to fall together in Harry’s head, and he looked at Ryou in amazement.

 

Ryou turned to face the three, “I’m sorry about that. I couldn’t let you have the locket, it was too dangerous. That wasn’t something that should exist; using that magic on the soul is just too unstable.” He shivered and whispered to himself almost like he was reassuring himself, “ _No_ part of me would ever be that foolish.”

 

“T-that’s fine,” Harry said in surprise, still staring at the broken locket, “That’s what we were going to do anyway.”

 

“How did you do that? What was that creature anyway?” Hermione asked.

 

“Dark Necrofear is a friend who I’ve known for many years. She’s a Shadow Monster.”

 

“A what?”

 

“Well… True Shadow monsters are souls that were once human, but instead of dying, they chose to combine their Ka and _Sheut_ , normally out of the need to protect someone. It basically makes them immortal, but they can only live in the Shadow Realm, except when summoned to help. You also get the more common types, which are just Sheut that have been extracted from a soul and sealed.”

 

“What was that piece of paper you used to summon it – her?” Hermione asked curious.

 

“A Duel Monster card. Have you heard of the game?” Ryou asked, fingers fluttering over the edges of his deck.

 

She gasped, and her hand moved to the bead bag she carried. Moments later, she pulled out a magazine with a dramatic picture of Yugi – no, the pharaoh, on the front. She passed it to him and he smiled.

 

“We found this; you’re one of the top duelists in the world right?”

 

Looking at the worlds on the front he winced, “Battle City? That was a painful event.”

 

“What, why?”

 

“I was stabbed by the possessed half of my soul, forced to send relatively innocent people to the Shadow Realm, manipulated by a mind controlling idiot - friend or not - and finally sent to the Shadow Realm myself to endure unending agony until I was finally released.” Ryou said.

 

“What? How did all that happen? I thought Duel Monsters was a Muggle thing.” Ron interjected in surprise.

 

He laughed, “Hardly! Duel Monsters are a Shadow Mage thing; the creator himself was a Shadow Mage, before he… well” Ryou trailed off as he thought unhappily about Duelist Kingdom.

 

“What! And they sell it to Muggles?” Hermione gasped.

 

“Of course, the cards are only dangerous in the hands of Shadow Mages. They’re just normal playing card for everyone else.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, “Well... most of the time.”

 

“But wasn’t Battle City a Muggle event?”

 

Ryou laughed nervously, “You’d be hard pressed to find a _non_ -Shadow Duellists in the finals of Battle City!”

                                                                                     

They were quiet while this sank in.

 

Harry’s scar pained him slightly, but it felt numbed and far away. At the same time Harry rubbed his scar, Bakura’s gaze swung towards Harry, his eyes wide with that same unstable look as earlier that day. When he spoke, it was cold with realisation.

 

“I just recalled something,” Ryou looked at Harry, “When I first met you at the café you gave off this weird twinge of magic.”

 

Ryou picked up the broken locket from the floor at his feet, “I noticed it again now, just before you rubbed your forehead. This time I recognised it though.” He clenched his hand around the locket.

 

“You’re covered in Dark soul magic.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ren: the name a part of the Ancient Egyptian concept of the soul.   
> Sheut: the shadow, a part of the Ancient Egyptian concept of the soul.
> 
> Also, carrying around a Horcrux in some form is never good for one's mental health, even if it's not in direct contact. Particularly when it comes to people for whom most of their magic concerns the soul to begin with. And Shadow Magic sure does seem to revolve around the soul an awful lot :|
> 
> Okay, so I'm slowing down a bit on the updates because I'm trying to write one extra brand new chapter each time before I upload the next one here now so as to give myself a buffer while I edit. But it also means I'll have more time in between to reply to your comments, which I love to read


	13. CHAPTER THIRTEEN: HURW - CORRUPTION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have you been messing with soul magic?” Ryou demanded.
> 
> “What? No!” Harry denied without hesitation.

“Have you been messing with soul magic?” Ryou demanded.

 

“What? No!” Harry denied without hesitation.

 

“Then explain why you feel just like one of those Horcruxes!” Ryou said, walking towards him, “I can feel it on you; you’re harming the Shadows!”

 

At the mad glint in Bakura’s eyes, the trio gripped their wands. They’d forgotten who they were dealing with in the rush. Moving close to Harry, his friends stood next to him protectively.

 

Bakura just laughed at them, “You think your little wands can stop me? That toad woman and her goons thought so too! That is until they found out otherwise!”

 

Harry felt sick. He remembered the description of implied gore he’d heard in the Leaky Cauldron. He hadn’t been able to apply it to the white-haired teen though, even during his outburst back in Godric’s Hollow he hadn’t really felt like a killer - just defensive.

 

“Bakura, I would never make a Horcrux! I’m not a murderer!” He said keeping his tone level, trying to calm him down.

 

“You know, I’ve been thinking about that. I didn’t think you were one either, but you know what they say - appearances can be deceiving.” Ryou’s voice had gone cold and hard.

 

Harry gasped, remembering back when he’d thought the same thing about Bakura. He didn’t have time to focus on that though, he could see the Shadows in the gloomy room flicker and move towards the boy, he was starting to fade around the edges as he walked towards them, a knife in his hand that hadn't existed there before…

 

“ _Stupefy_!” all three of them yelled at the same time.

 

Bakura managed to dodge the first two spells, but the last one grazed his side and he fell over sideways, hitting the ground hard. The Shadows pulled away. Hermione tied him up with a quick spell.

 

“What are we going to do with him?” Ron asked, nudged the unmoving body with his foot.

 

Unconscious, the other teen looked almost impossibly innocent. His hair spread out over the floor surrounding his head like a halo.

 

Appearances really were deceptive.

“Let’s get him up on a chair and tie him up properly.” Harry said, “If we make sure he can’t move maybe he won’t be able to do that Shadow magic stuff.” Harry wasn’t sure about that at all, but it was better than nothing.

 

“He still has information. I want to know what he meant by the Horcrux magic he felt.” He forced himself to add.

 

“He brought it up when you touched your scar. Maybe it was Volde – You-Know-Who’s magic he felt. Through the connection.” Hermione said.

 

Harry nodded, but personally, he didn’t think so. Bakura had said something that may very well have confirmed a suspicion that had been stewing at the back of his mind about what the scar connection itself was.

 

They pulled Bakura onto a kitchen chair, emptying his pockets of anything he could use as a weapon – including his deck. The knife, they grabbed from the floor and placed with everything else on the kitchen table.

 

In total, Bakura didn’t have much else of danger on him. His pockets contained only his wallet, a handwritten letter, a bent get-well card and of course, his deck.

 

They decided to study the things before they woke Bakura up, in case it gave them some clues.

 

“Wow! He must have two hundred pounds in here!” Hermione said in amazement as she dug through his wallet.

 

“Here’s his passport; it says he’s got a British Citizenship and Japanese Permanent Residency. His birthday is September second - that makes him eighteen years old.”

 

“He’s only a year older than us, hard to believe he’s a complete nut.” Ron murmured shaking his head.

 

Harry had picked up the letter and was reading it, his eyes widening as he did.

 

“Guy’s, read this,” he motioned to the letter before he started reading;

 

 

“ _Dear Amane,_

_It’s your big brother again. How’s mother? Things here are strange, but they’ve gotten better. I’ll be arriving at Godric’s Hollow to see you tomorrow, but I wanted to write to you one last time before then._

_Today was the last one. I went to see William Goudy, do you remember him? That was during the seven months we spent in Scotland. He was the boy you told me to stay away from because you_ knew _something like that would happen. I remember I tried to avoid him, but when he ripped up my first copy of Dark Necrofear I was so angry._

_I knew what would probably happen if I let him get to me, and you tried to calm me down. You didn’t want me to do something_ that _horrible on_ purpose _. You even bought packs of Duel Monster cards with your own money until you found me a new card. You even played Monster World with me for six hours straight._

_I was so happy; you were always the only person I could play games with devoid of something bad happening._

_William was the boy who decided it would be funny to follow me home one day. I saw him though, just before I reached the house. I still don’t remember what happened next though, just waking up around the Monster World board, as usual, William dead to the world._

_In a way, I was grateful that time, the other times it had happened to people I considered my friends, no matter what you said._

_I know now that friends don’t try to hurt you or break your things, but that’s only thanks to the gang. I wish you could have met them. You would have gotten on well with Yugi and Anzu in particular I think._

_I released his soul, but I feel so awful when I think about the years of his life that he missed. It’s so strange, looking at him at eighteen. When I was younger he felt so imposing, now; even though we’re the same age he’s so much smaller now._

_Just like all of them were._

_I can’t wait to go back to the Hollow to see you; do you remember how we would wander around the graves at night looking for ghosts? Godric’s Hollow was the last place I ever saw you, but It was still the best place we ever lived. The spirit never hurt anyone there, not even during that week I can’t remember._

_I hope that if I go back there nothing bad will ever happen again. I already told you about what happened in the wizarding world, but I’m worried. What if I lose control again? It was so horrible; I didn’t feel anything while it was happening. Does that make me evil?_

_I hope I don’t turn into something my friends will have to stop for the greater good. It happened before; maybe my soul is just destined for evil? At least before I could always blame it on Zorc or the spirit, but the spirit was always a part of my soul in the end._

_Even before he was possessed by Zorc he wasn’t okay; he did watch his village – his family and friends get murdered and mutilated in front of him; boiled down and melted as he watched._

_I remember it too now._

_He was only eight at the time, the same age as I was when I got the Millennium Ring. I wonder if we could have been like Yugi and Atem at times, if I’d reacted differently, if he’d been less damaged. I wonder if that’s why things are the way they are now. We were only two halves of the same soul after all, just like them._

_I understand what made him that way though, what made him feel he needed Zorc to avenge his family. When you and mother left I would have done anything to get you back._

_I still would!_

_But even Shadow magic can’t truly do that. I learned that from what Pegasus attempted to get even just an illusion of his wife back._

_Thanks for listening to me sis, take care of mother for me,_

_~Ryou”_

They looked at each other, a strange sadness creeping over them. The letter was an emotional bombshell, but even though it gave more answers it left even more questions. 

 

“Aren’t his mother and sister dead?” Ron asked quietly.

 

Hermione nodded, her eyes watering slightly, “Yes,” she sniffed, “And he still writes to her!”

 

“They must be buried in that graveyard, the grave he was leaning against…” Ron whispered.

 

She sniffed tears creeping out the corners of her eyes, blinking rapidly she clung to Ron, sobs growing. Ron held her tightly in return. Harry felt numb. It was the same graveyard as _his_ parents, they were only feet apart.

 

He also knew Ryou Bakura was _definitely_ the boy from his old school now. And it seemed the two kids from Surrey hadn’t been the only ones sent into strange ‘comas’.

 

The boy had stolen people’s souls!

 

He shivered, but he still confused about some things. How did any of this soul magic work? Bakura was obviously adept at it. Why didn’t Bakura remember certain things? He’d told them he’d been possessed, but that had been Zorc right? Who was this ‘spirit’? Judging from the letter it was some kind of soul magic, a soul half? Like some kind of a Shadow Horcrux with a separate sentience maybe?

 

Ron was comforting Hermione, but she wasn’t crying anymore. Her eyes were full of questions that needed answers.

 

Harry looked at her and said, “We still need to ask him questions - without him attacking us again due to some stupid misunderstanding.”

 

Hermione nodded before biting her lip, “I-I um... packed a vial of veritaserum.” She whispered.

 

“Blimey ‘Mione!” Ron exclaimed looking at her in surprise, “Where’d you get that? It’s a controlled substance isn’t it?”

 

Looking nervous she whispered something under her breath.

 

“What was that Hermione? I missed it.” Harry asked moving forward to hear better.

 

Looking up, her face red she said; “I stole it from Professor Slughorn’s office at the end of the school year! Okay? I thought we might need it, so I went into a teacher’s office without _permission_ and took his potions and supplies without his knowledge!”  

 

“Bloody hell!” Ron exclaimed, “When’d you manage to do that?”

 

Flushing again she quickly told them how she’d broken into his office while he was helping some of the younger Slytherins in the common room before they had to leave for the train.

 

“Never knew you had it in you to do something like that Hermione.” Harry grinned.

 

She glared and said, “You know, just forget it. Forget I said anything!” She waved her arms in exasperation face red.

 

Harry blinked, “Hey, we didn’t mean to upset you we were just messing with you -”

 

“no… It’s not that.” She whispered.

 

“Then what’s the problem?” Ron asked.

 

“It’s just, I know I’m the one who brought it up; but…” She bit her lip, “Using the serum like this is illegal. The penalties for doing this are almost as harsh as the ones for using an Unforgivable.”

 

“What? Really?” Harry exclaimed, “Why’s that? I mean, it got used on Barty Jr. pretty easily - and Umbridge tried to slip me some several times in our fifth year. I mean, Snape threatened me with it more than a few times over the years.”

 

“Because it takes away the drinkers free will.” Hermione looked at him, “It takes away their ability to think or block information unless they’re really skilled at Occlumency, and even then some secrets will be told. Very few people can throw the potion off completely. It’s almost like using the Imperious curse on someone.”

 

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it? We’ll know he’s telling the truth?” Ron pointed out. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as her though.

 

Harry meanwhile was thinking. He knew what it was like to be put under the Imperious curse, the feeling that everything in the world was okay. If the veritaserum was anything like that, he could just imagine the pain that would be felt if it couldn’t be thrown off. To suddenly come out of a soft haze and realise things… people you’ve been trying to protect who are now directly in danger or even dead because of you.

 

To go from that feeling of peace to the pain of those realizations…

 

“Ron, it’s not that easy,” Harry said, “I… don’t know how to describe it, but it’s not that easy.”

 

Looking between Harry and Hermione Ron acquiesced to that statement before asking, “Well? Do you want to use it or not then? We don't have to.”

 

Harry looked back at the unmoving Bakura and made a final decision.

 

“Let’s use the veritaserum.” he sighed finally, “But whatever we k him, unless it affects us or people we know directly, we won’t repeat to anyone. And we _won’t_ ask about anything we don’t think is important. Okay?”

 

Hermione nodded, “If you’re sure.”

 

They needed direct answers, now or never; even if it meant going to this extreme.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are just going to keep getting worse before they get better, aren't they? (...I say as if I'm not the one who wrote this) :'D
> 
>  
> 
> Since I'm posting this it means I"ve gotten another chapter done, meaning I'm up to chapter 28 on my computer. And the story is nowhere near done... Here's hoping my motivation holds out to the end this time!


	14. CHAPTER FOURTEEN: IEAHU - INTERPRETER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Who are you?” Harry asked clearly, to check the potion’s effectiveness.
> 
> Tonelessly Bakura said, “Ryou Bakura, also known as Tomb Robber Bakura, Soul Stealer and The King of Thieves throughout the years.”

The veritaserum was a small crystal vial. It contained only a few drops of the clear liquid.

 

Hermione carefully opened it while Ron tilted Bakura’s head back, which lolled lifelessly into position. Harry was standing on hand ready to _enervate_ the teen. Hermione dripped three drops into Bakura’s mouth carefully, and Harry shot the spell.

 

Bakura’s eyes fluttered before opening, the blank expression on his face and his half-open eyes evidence of the potion taking effect.

 

“Who are you?” Harry asked clearly, to check the potion’s effectiveness.

 

Tonelessly Bakura said, “Ryou Bakura, also known as Tomb Robber Bakura, Soul Stealer and The King of Thieves throughout the years.”

 

That was a surprise.

 

“What? Why are you known by those names?” Harry asked in surprise.

 

“Because I am Ryou Bakura; named so by my parents. I am known as The King of Thieves because that is who I was. I am known as a Tomb Robber because I am a Tomb Robber - I defiled the Necropolis of the kings of Kemet and shoved it in their faces as have my ancestors and my descendants after me to this day. And because I am the Soul Stealer - none can cross me without tasting my vengeance.”

 

They shivered at the blank statement.

 

“How can you have descendants? You’re only eighteen!” Hermione demanded, flabbergasted.

 

“I am eighteen. I am also three thousand years older than that.” Bakura intoned.

 

“How does that work? Is it to do with the spirit you’ve mentioned?” Harry asked.

 

“Yes. The part of me also known as Tomb Robber Bakura, Soul Stealer and The King of Thieves, that was the Spirit of the Millennium Ring. The half of me that dates back to Ancient Egypt and was trapped in the darkness of the Millennium Ring for three millennia until I was finally reincarnated as my own descendent. The part of me that can be called evil for what it’s done… and the part of me which I often condemn.”

 

“What’s the Millennium Ring you mentioned?”

 

“One of the seven Millennium Items.”

 

“What are they, and how are you connected to them?”

 

“Three thousand years ago they had a situation. To stop it, the Millennium Items were created through a blood ritual. Through The slaughter of the village of Kul Elna they were created.

Ninety-nine impure souls had to be massacred. No soul is truly pure, so they used Kul Elna, the village of thieves which had caused the pharaoh problems in the past.

I was the hundredth villager. I lived to see everything I’d ever known burn to the ground.”

 

The trio shivered. They couldn’t comprehend what that would be like, and the toneless voice Bakura had under the serum made it seem even worse.

 

“The Items would give seven people ultimate control over the Shadows. They would be given to the pharaoh’s priests.

In the Items creation, however, a new evil was unleashed. The creation of the items allowed Zorc to be free, but only if the items were returned to the place of their creation. The only way he could act upon the world without that occurring then was through possession.”

 

They knew what was coming next from what they had been told before now, but Harry voiced his question throat dry, “What happened then?”

 

“The sole survivor of the slaughter was a perfect candidate for possession, those put through trauma always are. I was only eight, but I swore I would destroy the pharaoh for what he’d done. Zorc was the only one left for me, he taught me to harness my hate and summon my Ka. By the time I was old enough though, the pharaoh had died. My hate had not, however, and I decided to pass my revenge to the next generation.”

 

“What did you do?” Hermione asked, completely entranced by the story Bakura was telling.

 

“I killed some of the new pharaoh’s priests and returned the items to their resting place, hoping to bring peace to my people and vengeance to my soul. But Zorc betrayed me; he thought my uses were over and he struck me down. He decided to acquire one of the priests instead, rather than a thief like me.

I died over the Items, and with my last breath, I sealed half my soul into the Millennium Ring, the first Item I’d stolen so that I wouldn’t die that easily. It turned out Zorc still possessed me at the time, and a part of him was sealed in with me.

The new pharaoh managed to stop Zorc, sealing the Shadow Realm and its magic from all but the Item Holders. He died in the process, sealing half of his soul as well.

I was reborn millennia later as my own descendent many times over, Ryou Bakura. I was innocent in this life. I knew no evil and couldn’t judge anyone. I was light. Incomplete.

When my father gave me the Millennium Ring I met myself for the first time.

The half of my soul that had been sealed had spent three thousand years in darkness, and instead of my two soul pieces merging together upon contact, they developed separate identities. Distinct personalities, vastly different from one another.

When my soul was split, I was separated into light and dark. Half of me never knew what was happening, while the other ran rampant. I befriended a boy named Yugi Mutou. He had the Millennium Puzzle and was the reincarnation of the Pharaoh I’d tried to destroy so long before.

The one half was still trying to get revenge after three thousand years, while the other half befriended the pharaoh. The battle of the past was recreated. My innocent half was banished from the final battle, allowing the part of me consumed by revenge to work alongside Zorc unabated.  

Once more the pharaoh fought me, in doing so he freed the ghosts of Kul Elna and gave me peace. Once more Zorc had no need for me, he destroyed me and took my body for his own.

The pharaoh saved my body by destroying Zorc entirely, allowing my lighter side control of his body. With the destruction of half my soul though, instead of finally passing on my spirit started to merge into a single whole finally after so long.

With the evil finally gone, Yugi let the pharaoh pass on, and with him, the Millennium Items were destroyed.”

 

It had been a confusing and rambling story. The trio didn’t know the full relevance of most of what they’d heard, although some questions they didn’t know they had were now answered.

 

But at the same time, Harry couldn’t help but feel a growing stab of sympathy and understanding, something he found surprising in a way, since Bakura had just admitted to committing so much evil in his life - possessed or not.

 

Still, he felt nauseous at how easily Bakura had told them so much personal information with almost no prompting.  He couldn’t waste too much time on that awful thought though. The serum would only work for so long. He could feel sick about it later.

 

Harry drew a shaking breath before he asked the most pressing question.

 

“Bakura, what did you mean when you said there was… soul magic on me?”

 

“It’s there, most of the time it’s dim but just now it was very noticeable. You have either made a Horcrux or you are one. You must be destroyed or the magic must be removed, otherwise you will continue to effect the Shadows badly and harm the Balance.”

 

Harry felt frozen to the spot. Could it be true? Was his scar really a Horcrux? Did he really have a part of Voldemort’s _soul_ in his body? He looked at his friends. They both looked at him with almost fearful expressions. 

 

“Harry…” Hermione trailed off not knowing what to say.

 

Harry spun to face Bakura’s blank face again, unwilling to look at his friends, “How can the magic be removed?”

 

“The Shadows were once used for extracting the evil inside humans, which was easy enough with the Items. However, it’ll be more time consuming without them. Either way, a Shadow Game must be played.

The evil is placed into a stone tablet traditionally, where it would be sealed. However, any object can hold a soul. If the object is then destroyed, so is the soul.”

 

“Can you remove it?” Harry asked quickly.

 

“Harry no! We can’t trust him using magic around your _brain_!” Ron yelped.

 

“Yes, I can remove it.” Bakura said impassively, “But probably not alone.”

 

“Wait, what do you mean?” Harry pressed, ignoring Ron.

 

“It would take at least two Shadow Mages to remove the magic. The darkness given off by these Horcruxes is painful to Shadow users; it affects the Balance and seems to make us… more unstable than usual. Two would be needed to make sure the other doesn’t lose it.”

 

Harry paused, “Is that why you’ve been acting so unbalanced?”

 

“Partially,” He spoke impassive, “It is also due to the fact that I am essentially an embodiment of what was at one point, two different people. Now, both personalities are fighting for control until they strike a balance.”

 

“So… _what_ are you then?”

 

“A torn soul trying to repair itself after being used by evil after evil.”

 

Ryou paused for a moment and blinked slowly before speaking more freely without any prompting, in a more emotional if dazed tone, “At this rate I probably won’t survive long, I’m not even sure I want to. It’s not like I haven’t had a long life, three thousand years is nothing to sneeze at – even if most of it was spent in mourning, pain, possession or revenge. Then again, if the rest continues like that there really isn’t much point. It’s probably just a matter of time before yet another evil force seeks to control me, probably this British Dark Lord this time around.

I wanted to make sure the world would be safe for once, instead of being the one it needed saving from… I should have known I couldn’t do it, I was never a hero. Yugi and his friends were heroes. I was just the convenient sacrifice for either good or evil, If not both…”

 

Ryou had stopped talking, his dazed eyes filled with tears and a hopeless look. He blinked and silent tears slid down his face. The boys looked at Hermione for help, a bit shell-shocked at change of events.

 

“The serum must be starting to wear off, he’s becoming more aware of things.” She said to them nervously.

 

“Do you think it’s true then – that You-Know-Who would go after this guy if he knew about him?” Ron asked, his voice strained.

 

“It doesn’t seem too unrealistic. Bakura _is_ powerful, but he also said he has been controlled before, making it likely it could happen again.” Hermione said brow furrowed.

 

“But he’s not unstoppable, I mean, we managed to stun him,” Ron said uncertainly.

 

“True, but I’m not sure how much of that was just luck, I mean he wasn’t exactly sane at the time.”

 

“At what point _was_ he sane?” Ron rolled his eyes.

 

“Think about it this way; he knows too much for us to let You-Know-Who capture him for himself,” Harry said.

 

“We’ll keep him here then?” Ron asked.

 

“Do we have much of a choice? He may be insane, but we can’t just hand him over to the Ministry, that would send him straight to Vol- You-Know-Who.” Harry said, “We still need to get rid of the Horcrux in my scar too.”

 

The three of them contemplated for a while before Ron asked Harry quietly, “Should we ask him where to find more Shadow Mages then?”

 

“Pardon, ask me what about them?” A soft voice asked.

 

They turned their eyes back to Bakura, gripping their wands. Bakura was blinking in a confused way, white hair falling over his face and tear tracks staining his face. He noticed that he was tied up and gave a small gasp of surprise.

 

“Did that really happen?” he was blinking fast to stop tears, “Did I really try to hurt you guys?”

 

“Yeah, you did you _bloody_ _psychopath_!” Ron roared out in frustration, losing all his self-control suddenly. He just couldn’t stand it - how could this guy act like this after what he’d done? It was infuriating!

 

 “What the hell is wrong with you?” Ron yelled, “I can’t believe any of my brothers could be connected to someone so bloody sick!”

 

Ron was over it, he hadn’t meant to burst out and he’d been holding it back. But Bakura acting like this - so… _innocent_ , after trying to kill him and his best friends _twice_! It was too much. This entire day had just been too much.

 

Moments after he started yelling though, Harry grabbed him by the shoulders and shouted at him to calm down while Hermione kept a nervous eye on Bakura.

 

Surprisingly, Bakura didn’t start crying or getting angry. He just sat there with a pained look on his face. He didn’t struggle against his ropes. In fact, he went limp. His head slumping slightly.

 

“I understand your rage. My connection to your family is sullying to you, as is my connection to m-my own father. You have the right to kill me for what I have attempted. I will not defend myself. It will also prevent me from hurting others. I’m obviously a burden here, it might be for the best.”

 

Ron stopped dead in his tracks at those words. face filling with alarm, what sort of person would willingly let someone kill them?

 

“Wh-what?” He faltered in his rage, the wind taken completely out of him.  

 

 “I’ll tell you where to find another Shadow Mage beforehand so that Harry can have that magic removed.” He paused, pained expression growing, “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions like that, I know Harry wouldn’t be able to make a Horcrux, despite the taint on your forehead your soul is clean.”

 

They didn’t say anything, all of them were thinking about what Bakura had just offered to let them do. They couldn’t, could they?

 

When they didn’t speak, Bakura continued regardless, “Most of the Shadow Mages are in Luxor, Egypt. That’s where you’d find the Tomb Keeper Clan lead by Isis and Marik Ishtar. They’re both working at the main Antiquities building there. In Japan, you’ll find Yugi Mutou and his grandfather. I wouldn’t bother with Kaiba, he doesn’t believe in magic, even if he does have it-”

 

“Bakura, I can’t kill you. That would be wrong. It’s wrong.” Ron said abruptly, interrupting the other boy.

 

“-If you send them a wizard owl they probably wouldn’t be too surprised, your best bet would be Yugi or Marik, although Yugi’s probably busy with university at the moment,” Bakura said, ignoring Ron’s protests.

 

Out of the three, only Hermione had the presence of mind to scramble for a quill and write the information down as Bakura spoke, before she looked up at her friends and back to the main issue at hand.

 

“What _do_ we do with him?” She asked, biting her lip.

 

“Let’s put him in one of the rooms upstairs and have at least one of us guard him at all times for now,” Harry said shakily.

 

“How are we going to get him upstairs?” Ron asked doubtfully, looking down the long hall sceptically. He was much too exhausted to carry Bakura all that way. Ron was so done with this day.

 

“We can levitate him, idiot!” Hermione hissed, patting him lightly on the back of his head in fond frustration.

 

After ten minutes difficulty, during which Bakura decided to stay quiet as he was levitated, they got him into an upstairs bedroom still tied to the kitchen chair.

 

Standing quietly around him for a moment, they looked at Bakura’s soft face and weary eyes before Hermione spoke.

 

“We should write to one of these people. It might not be very safe, but we do need their help.”

 

“How do we know the names aren’t just friends who’ll help him kill us? He wasn’t completely under the serum when he gave the names to us.” Ron muttered, dead on his feet and about to fall asleep.

 

“We don’t have much of a choice here, Ron.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair, “Not if Harry’s a Horcrux.”

 

Harry gulped and looked at his friends. He could see the fear in their eyes, and he didn’t like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I've slowed a bit due to the Holidays making life hard, but I didn't want to leave you all hanging without an update for another week. 
> 
> But comments always fuel my ability to prioritise fics over things I should actually be doing ;D


	15. CHAPTER FIFTEEN: SBI – SENT FOR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marik arrived at Heathrow airport at about ten at night. He only had packed only a small bag with him as cabin luggage, containing a few spare changes of clothes and everything he needed in case this was a trap.

_To Mr. Marik Ishtar,_

_You don’t know us, but we are currently with your friend Ryou Bakura. We need your help here in England, and we were wondering if you could oblige._

_We are willing to pay your way and have sent a plane ticket booked to bring you to Heathrow with this letter in the hopes of your acceptance._

_We apologise for the strangeness of this request, but Bakura said you were one of the people more likely to help with our problem._

_We apologise for not explaining much more, but we’d rather not have this letter intercepted in some way with more information than necessary._

_Send a letter back with Pig (the owl) telling us if you’ll come._

_Yours truly,_

_H.J.P, R.B.W and H.J.G_

 

 

* * *

 

 

Marik arrived at Heathrow airport at about ten at night. He had packed only a small bag, taken with him as cabin luggage, containing a few spare changes of clothes and everything he needed in case this was a trap. He’d gotten through customs with little problem.

He could still use mind control even now to some extent, despite the Rod’s absence. Just as it seemed to be the case for all the Shadow users known to be chosen by the Millennium Items, he’d retained some level of specialisation and aptitude. He was glad for this now in particular since it made travelling much easier for one thing. Especially getting into England now, there had been reports of many strange deaths and possible terror-related attacks in various parts of the island nation lately. Enough to cause the news to travel at any rate. And to put people on edge.

 

He probably wouldn’t have come here if it wasn’t for one reason.

 

Bakura.

 

He’d disappeared completely off the map for the last few months. No one had heard from him and apparently, his father had gone and stopped by in Japan to visit him around Christmas time only to find him missing from his Domino apartment and not staying at the museum either.

 

His father had contacted Yugi, who was the only friend the man could recall, or knew of apparently, and had been surprised to hear his son was apparently in England! Yugi had panicked at the call from Bakura’s father and had been calling the Tomb Keepers as well as everyone else he knew to see if they’d heard anything from him during this time. 

 

They hadn’t.

 

At least, not until last week…

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Marik had climbed onto the roof of the Antiquity’s building where his family now openly worked, keeping himself out of sight against the terracotta coloured building. He'd been watching the dusty blue sky while soaking up the brilliant heat of the sun. He really loved the sun, it was probably something to do with all the years he’d gone without it, living underground. But he could never get enough of it._

_He absently wondered if that was why he had preferred the Winged Dragon of Ra so much to the other God cards if he was completely honest. Any connection to the sun or the sun god._

_It was nice out, although still cooler than he would like. Warm enough for the time of year though, and he closed his eyes and lay out flat taking advantage of the sun-baked concrete beneath him, and limbs spread out to make the most of the time before he had to head back inside to help his siblings with their, and technically his, work. There sure had been a lot of that lately..._

_He’d been quite taken aback when a tiny owl flew directly into his face, causing him to push himself up from his lounging position with a squawk of surprise - matched only by the sound made by the creature that had dive-bombed him._

_Marik had never seen a living owl this close before, but he was pretty sure they were usually nocturnal. And then to top it off, he had been even more surprised when the darting creature dropped something in his lap before flying around his head, hooting in a distressingly happy manner at a job well done._

_Blinking at the owl blearily, it took him a few minutes to actually register the letter on his lap. Picking it up he was surprised to feel the weight and texture of it. It felt like it was made of actual parchment he realised, before ripping it open and unfolding it._

_Reading the letter, his stomach jolted in sudden shock. It mentioned Bakura!_

_Marik quickly jotted a short reply back with a pen from his pocket, having a little difficulty since it seemed his ballpoint pen didn’t work too well on parchment much to his frustration. He shoved the ticket under his arm and, after finding the owl to be too difficult to catch by hand, he used the Shadows to calm it down and control it to the point that it quietly flew down and landed on his arm, where he shoved the letter at it. The owl flew off immediately after he released control, and Marik raced down to his sister’s office as quickly as he could, the plane ticket clutched in his hand._

_Isis had been surprised and relieved to find out he’d gotten some news of Bakura, and immediately she agreed to give him the time off work to check it out. She’d wanted Rishid to go with him for his safety though, but Marik insisted he’d be fine. She’d remained resistant to the idea of him going alone, however which had frustrated Marik and made him even more determined to go alone just to prove to her that he could handle it._

_Besides, he’d argued, the three siblings were almost always needed around the place due to their extensive knowledge of Egyptology, and the loss of two of them would inconvenience things around the place a lot._

 

_Not to mention, Isis had a lot on her plate outside of  'official' work now as well. Ever since Yugi and Jou had contacted her a month ago about something that seemingly went against her prior predictions regarding the broken Seal… At least from their initial observations._

 

_She’d finally relented after that._

_Speaking of, Marik had also sent a quick message to Yugi in Japan, telling him the news of Bakura before he left. Yugi had almost left Japan immediately himself after he’d heard, but the timing worked against him, as he had a test of some sort coming up and he couldn’t reschedule it much to his distress. Marik had reassured him and told him he could handle it himself. After all, Yugi probably shouldn’t leave the situation in Domino unattended just yet either._

_He had, however, made Marik promise to contact him when he found Bakura and said that if anything went wrong he would fly to England no matter what, dragging everything else with him if he had to. Tests could always be retaken after all, and friends would always come first in a pinch. Marik smiled at that, Yugi was a good person, but he hoped things wouldn’t be bad enough for him to need to call the very quintessence of the Pharaoh to the rescue._

 

* * *

 

 

Now…

 

 

He was looking around the airport for someone when he belatedly realised he didn’t actually know what these people looked like. Maybe they’d have Bakura with them, which would help…

 

“Excuse me, are you Marik Ishtar?” a timid voice suddenly asked from behind him.

 

Marik turned to face a girl about his age with long bushy brown hair.

 

“Yes I am, and you are?” he drawled out.

 

“Hermione Granger. I’m one of the people who sent you the letter. Please, follow me.” She motioned for him to follow.

 

“Not until you tell me where Bakura is,” Marik said firmly standing his ground.

 

“That’s where we’re going now. You’re his friend right?”

 

Marik nodded.

 

“I hope you can help us, we really don’t know what to do with him.” She looked very nervous and was biting her lip.

 

Marik’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like the sound of that, _Ra I hope Bakura hasn’t lost it_ , he prayed. There were only so many reasons why Bakura would have fallen off the map like this, and honestly, he didn’t like any of them.

 

“Take me to him.” He said harshly.

 

The girl flinched slightly at his tone, which made him feel a bit bad, but he was too concerned with his friend to worry about some hurt feelings, and she motioned for him to follow again and he finally relented. When they reached a quiet corner out of sight of any people or security cameras, she pulled out a silvery cloak.

 

“Cover yourself in this.” She said. They both scrambled under it, with Marik shooting her a strange look as he did, but following her lead regardless despite the strangeness.

 

“We’re going to number 12 Grimmauld Place.” She whispered to him.

 

Marik blinked, wondering why she felt the need to say that under this cloak when suddenly the girl grabbed his arm. One moment of discomfort later they were at a doorstep which she hurried through, pulling the disorientated Marik behind her.

 

Marik could feel strange magic everywhere, most unlike anything he’d felt before. It was almost suffocating.

 

“What is this place? How did you use magic?” He gasped suspiciously. Was this connected to..?

 

He’d been too loud in his surprise, and whatever reply Hermione was trying to give was suddenly drowned out by a loud screeching voice, “MUDBLOOD SCUM, DEFILING THIS, THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK! _STAINS OF DISHONOUR, FILTHY HALF-BREEDS, BLOOD TRAITORS - CHILDREN OF FILTH!_ ”

 

Marik jumped in shock as a curtain hanging over the wall to the side of the entrance whipped open to expose a painting of a mottled, red-faced woman with an obvious deficiency in manners.

 

“What the hell?” He said, before starting to register the gist of what the woman was screaming. He didn’t know what some of the words meant, he didn’t know whether this was due to not being a native English speaker or some other reason, but the tone and frequency of the voice were enough for him to figure out the general meaning.

 

He turned on the painting, eyes almost glowing in anger. He noticed the girl and some boy who’d run into the room when the screaming started were trying to shut the curtains, but having some difficulty.

 

“Shut it you old sow, or I’ll silence you permanently.” He said pointedly. Letting some magic slip into his words.

 

For some reason though, this threat didn’t work, and the painting refocused on him, screaming on with renewed vigour.

 

“That’s it! You didn’t listen, now you’ll realise why you should’ve!” Marik laughed mockingly, tendrils of Shadow Magic materialising around the painting, moving towards Mrs Black’s face. She screeched at the sight, before suddenly going very, very quiet.

 

Her mouth had been painted over.

 

 _“_ You will never speak another word of insult to anyone…”  Marik said ominously, a smirk gracing his lips. He knew he’d hadn't played fair with the small Shadow Game by not explaining the rules, but on the other hand - it was just a painting. It wasn’t like he’d played a _real_ Game with the thing anyway.

 

The black haired boy stared in amazement, “Wow… I mean, thanks!” he said.

 

“Was that Shadow Magic?” the girl, Hermione, asked with a burning curiosity.

 

Blinking, Marik turned to face the two spectators, “Umm… Yes. It was, and now that I can hear myself without the nonsensical insults of that waste of canvas and paint,” at this he waved towards Mrs Black, who was making mouthless gasping expressions, painted skin pulling taunt as she clutching her throat and face in horror, “You still need to answer my questions - where the hell am I and who are you people?”  

 

“We’re wizards, and this is Grimmauld Place.” the boy said with a breath, “I’m Harry, by the way. Harry Potter.”

 

Marik turned blankly to face the black haired boy leaning against the doorframe.

 

“Non-Shadow Magic users?” He mused, “My sister told me about some rumours she’d heard about, while she’s been looking into… something else, but I didn’t think they were real. I thought most magic died out millennia ago when the seal was formed. I’m assuming Bakura’s gotten himself involved in this somehow.”

 

At the mention of Bakura, the boy looked faintly ashamed.

 

“Bakura’s upstairs, Ron’s busy keeping an eye on him.”

 

Marik could feel something being edged around, and he didn’t like it.

 

“What did you do to him?” His voice was like ice.

 

“Nothing!” The boy said quickly. Too quickly. Harry looked at the Egyptian boy nervously.

 

“Then why has no one heard from him in over six months? Even his father’s noticed he’s missing!”

 

“What? He’s missing? We only brought him here about a week ago! But please, we need your help with something –“

 

“Take me to Bakura.” He cut the boy off uninterested.

 

The boy paused then nodded mournfully and motioned Marik up the stairs, the girl following behind. On the second floor, Harry led him into a room with the red-headed Ron standing in the doorway. Pushing past him, Marik caught his breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually intended to update two days ago after I finished my draft version of Chapter 30, but life happened.
> 
> Also, hey look! that character tag had relevance!


	16. CHAPTER SIXTEEN: SBIHR - WATCH OVER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Bakura!” Marik gasped, looking at the scrawny boy wearing a pale jumper and light jeans tied to a chair.

“Bakura!” Marik gasped, looking at the scrawny boy wearing a pale jumper and light jeans tied to a chair. His wrists were rubbed raw where the ropes had pulled against his skin. He looked haggard.

 

“What the hell did they do to you?” He rushed forwards, ready to cut the ropes off in an instant when Bakura spoke.

 

“Don’t!” He looked up at Marik, a sad smile on his face.

 

“What are you talking about Bakura? They can’t treat you like this!” He shot repulsed looks at the three in the doorway.

 

“No Marik! Its okay – I asked them not to! I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be untied yet.”

 

Marik wasn’t an idiot when it came to this sort of thing, not when it came to Shadow Magic. He leaned over Bakura and put his hands on his friend’s shoulders.

 

“Bakura,” he asked seriously, “What did you _do_?”

 

Bakura bit his lip, his eyes watering as he blinked tears back, “I – I killed three people and I tried to kill Harry.”

 

Bakura dissolved into tears. He didn’t sob, but the tears slid down his face in massive, uncontrollable rivulets.

 

Marik was silent for a moment. While Marik had caused the deaths of many indirectly during his time as the leader of the Ghouls, the only person he’d ever _really_ killed with his own hands had been his father, and that had been while he was under the control of his… other personality, and he didn’t remember that very well. He only knew what he’d been told by his brother and sister, quite recently really.

 

He knew Bakura though. At least, he liked to think so.

 

 _Both_ of him, and he’d known what would happen with the merge. He had hung out with Yugi another month after the others left for their various locations across the world, showing him around Egypt and taking him through some of the tombs that only the tomb keepers were usually allowed to venture through. He’d noticed Yugi becoming much more… regal and confident during this time, but on the whole, it didn’t really seem to matter. Near the end, Yugi and the pharaoh had been almost identical in so many aspects, so them merging together wasn’t a big deal.

 

Bakura on the other hand…

 

He’d never developed a bond with his spirit. If they had, they would have probably have become more and more similar until they could have ended up merging and you wouldn’t even notice in the end.

 

Just like what had ended up happening with the pharaoh and his reincarnated soul half.

 

But it was clear now that if a bond wasn’t formed, the differences would become more and more pronounced. Until the only way the two halves _could_ be merged was through force, as was what did end up happening to Bakura in the end. With that done the entire soul could get thrown out of whack. The soul couldn’t know how to balance itself anymore, and that couldn’t end well…

 

“Bakura, stop crying.” Marik said quietly, “You know as well as anyone that those forced to carry the Shadows will live a half-cursed life. We’re haunted forever by the ghosts of our past, you know as well as I do that the Shadows will always step in to help the casters if they feel someone is a real threat, they can’t let us die that easily! And they make sure of it and eliminate threats for good if you don’t do something first. We’ve all had moments where we lose control of ourselves due to the Shadows. And with our lives being so much more closely tied to them than most others, we’ve all done things we regret. It’s a volatile magic. We’ve all lost things due to the Shadows.”

 

Marik paused before asking his final question, “But despite all that Bakura, despite all the darkness and pain we’ve had to endure, do you remember what could always bring balance to the Shadow Mages? Even in the darkest of times.”

 

Bakura was looking up at him, silent tears still streaming down his face. With a small laugh that sounded more like a sigh, he nodded, eyes glistening.

 

“Friendship,” Bakura whispered, and while the word was said softly, it seemed to fill the whole room.

 

The three at the back of the room stirred a little at this but said nothing.

 

“ _Damn right_ Bakura!” Marik emphasised, “Friendship is what saved all of us! Yugi has his friends to keep him stable and me and Isis have Rishid, although I’ll reluctantly admit Isis was always tougher and more in control than me from the beginning. Maybe.”

 

“And who did I have?” Bakura whispered sadly.

 

“You had _us_ Bakura. All of us.” Marik said firmly, “Your father may be a weed at times and the rest of your family may be gone, but you had _us_. We were so worried about you when you left. You just _left_ , after an extremely volatile magic ritual that had never been done before. We thought you were going to be with your father - so that you’d at least have _someone_ to lean on, but you just vanished! Everyone’s been worried sick - your father’s been contacting people all over England and Japan to see if he could find you!”

 

Bakura laughed lightly, “He would do that rather than just check at his own house here.”

 

Marik smiled, he was pulling Bakura out of it.

 

“Well, he clearly isn’t exactly the smartest man around when it comes to those sorts of things.”

 

“No, he isn’t.” Bakura paused, a small smile on his face, “But he actually cared? He found out I was gone and he cared?”

 

Bakura’s eyes threatened to overflow again, a small smile on his face, “I thought he hated me…”

 

Gripping his friend's arm Marik shook his head, “Of course he doesn’t, and you don’t have a _complete_ ass for a father like I did. Your father was just scared and probably not as understanding as he could have been, you know that. We Shadow Mages are always feared because our justice is blind and unforgiving, especially if we’re left alone for too long. _You_ shouldn’t have gone off alone - I don’t know why you did it honestly. Death, destruction and chaos always follow an unbalanced Shadow Caster. Remember me - remember what I turned into when I no longer had Rishid to lean on?”

 

Bakura nodded, he could remember the duel the spirit had with Marik’s dark side on the blimp, and he could remember ending up in the Shadow Realm yet again as a result. And eventually waking up in a pile of rubble, alone.

 

“Why did you do it?” Marik asked out of curiosity, “Why did you go off alone?”

 

Bakura blinked and sighed, “I guess… I wanted to fix the past.”

 

“Did you?”

 

Bakura started to nod, then shook his head, “I did what I could. But I think I just caused... more things that need fixing in the world!”

 

“Life isn’t an easily fixable thing Bakura.” Marik sighed, “Trust me on that.”

 

Bakura blinked and looked at Marik owlishly through red-rimmed eyes, “Hey, when did you learn to be so eloquent and understanding about this sort of thing anyway Marik?” He asked bluntly.

 

Making a face Marik glanced over at the golden trio before switching over to Japanese, “ _First off, I have no idea what the word ‘_ eloquent’ _means, Bakura - English is my **third** language after all, but the reason I can talk psychobabble is because Isis decided to send me to a… psychiatrist after Battle City. A psychiatrist, who I should add, makes me listen to relaxation tapes! I need to do breathing exercises every time I go!” _ Marik made an over-reactant face and waved his hands a bit when he said that, as if it was a most torturous experience he’d ever had to endure, which would be saying something if he’d been even slightly serious with his dramatics.

 

Bakura laughed and replied back in Japanese, “ _You make that sound like it’s the worst thing in the world_.”

 

Marik scowled, “ _You tell me it isn’t after you’re told to relax in the presence of someone being paid to get into your mind. I’m used to being the one getting into people’s heads - it’s just weird being on the receiving end of that to any extent.”_  

 

“ _Why did you go then, if you hate it so much?”_

 

_“Isis said she didn’t want me reverting to… you know what, or something. Plus, as much as I hate to admit it, it has helped.” Marik admitted._

 

Bakura looked a little surprised at this, “Wait, why? Wasn’t he sealed in the Shadows though?” He replied in English in his surprise.

 

Noticing that Bakura was calming down in his curiosity, Marik decided to explain, despite his general dislike of the topic, he made sure to keep speaking in Japanese though, he didn’t want the others in the room to know this stuff about him, and he didn’t know them or particularly trust them. This was private.

 

“ _Well, it’s more complicated than that considering he was just a part of my own mind to begin with, which means he can be triggered again if certain… stresses happen. My magic only made him more ‘alive’ I guess is the word, than he should have been if it was just a normal case of DID. But all the pharaoh did really was seal the magic that he was made of rather than taking the actual illness.”_

 

Bakura looked at Marik with a bit of shock, “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

 

“I just did.” Marik drawled back in English with a smirk.

 

Bakura snorted with surprised laughter, and Marik grinned back. He didn’t know what else to say, but he could already tell Bakura was starting to stabilise with the presence of a friend. He pulled a knife out of his pocket and cut loose the ropes.

 

“What are you -” Ron started at the sight of the cut rope.

 

“I’m putting him in bed. He needs some proper sleep, you dolt. otherwise, he’ll just get worse and I’ll have to clean up the mess he makes when he loses it completely.” The blond Egyptian said bluntly.

 

“But he can’t do anything to us like this can he?” Hermione asked timidly.

 

Marik snorted with laughter at that, “Of course he can, Shadow Mages don’t need their hands freed to use all of their magic, not to mention this is _Bakura_ \- this idiot could have gotten out of these binds in seconds if he actually wanted to. He was just being an idiot and trying to punish himself for things he couldn’t control in his current state anyway.”

 

Marik rolled his eyes as he shoved his head under his arm and pulled the emaciated pale figure up from the chair, carrying him much too easily to the large black bed in the corner of the room, where he dropped his friend and covered him with blankets.

 

Bakura had already fallen asleep.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Harry was wondering about what Marik had said to calm Bakura down. They had been talking pretty low for the most part, but he had heard some pretty interesting things.

 

Shadow mages had difficulty controlling their magic? And why had he mentioned so much about justice and tragedy? What _was_ Shadow magic anyway, the trio didn’t really know did they? Only what Hermione had told them, and then the parts of a larger puzzle surrounding it all they'd picked up from Bakura.

 

What had struck him most however, was the mention of friendship. He looked at his own friends and tried to imagine all this without them. How far would he have come if he didn’t have their support? He couldn’t help feeling like he would have died a long time ago, maybe even during that one Quidditch match back in first year, before they’d even gotten near the Philosophers Stone.

 

Shaking slightly, he realised that even though none of them owed a Life Debt to the each other that was almost just a technicality! He would always protect his friends above all else, and they’d proven time and time again that they would do the same for him. There was no need for Life Debts, not between friends like his at any rate.

 

“Is there somewhere we can talk where we won’t wake up Bakura?” Marik asked coldly, walking over to the trio and startling Harry out of his thoughts.

 

Harry nodded, “Yeah, we can go to the kitchen. Shouldn’t someone stay up here and keep an eye on him though?”

 

“No, I’ll be able to tell if something’s wrong from this proximity,” Marik said with a slight smirk. He _had_ lived in Bakura’s head for a short while after all.

 

“Oh… Okay.”

 

The four teens walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. Sitting around the table, Harry looked at Marik. The guy looked strange, to say the least; he was covered in gold jewellery and wearing a black shirt with a cropped, sleeveless leather motorcycle jacket over it. His blond hair stood out against his tan skin. He looked almost like an average punk except, for one thing, his strange violet eyes which Harry finally noticed as they stared daggers at him.

 

“Now, I’m going to give you people the benefit of the doubt and let you explain your actions.” Marik said his voice icy “So first off, who are you people and how did you find Bakura?”

 

After some looks between the friends, and some hushed whispers, Harry began to introduce themselves and tell the story, “I’m Harry Potter and these are my friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.” Harry started, “We first ran into Bakura when he’d just arrived in London. We only met him for about ten minutes before he vanished, but something about him seemed familiar. Ron said he recognised Bakura from when he went to Egypt with his family to visit a dig site where his brother worked when Ron was about thirteen. I later realised that I also recognised him; we’d gone to the same primary school, but he was a year higher than me so I didn’t actually know him personally. I only remembered at all because there was a big scandal involving him which forced his family to move.”

 

“Is that where you know Bakura from too, from when he was in Egypt back then?” Ron asked curiously, looking at the Egyptian boy.

 

Marik looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, “I met Bakura for the first time in Japan two or so years ago, besides I would have been about the same age as Ron back then… So no, I would have still been living underground, forbidden to see even the light of day and kept completely locked off from the outside world.” He said with a hollow grin. Marik didn’t like being asked about himself much, so he’d discovered that blunt honesty made people shut up a lot faster than avoiding it. Plus, he couldn't help but find himself somewhat amused by people’s reactions to the things he said.

 

The trio shivered. They remembered what Marik had told Bakura, about living a cursed life.

 

_Haunted by ghosts of the past…_

 

What horrors had these people, only a little older than they were, faced? While the trio knew they themselves had been through more than their fair share of horrors, they had almost always they’d treated the situations like adventures, not the truly dangerous situations they really were.

 

They hadn’t learned that lesson until fifth year...

 

They couldn’t understand what it would be like to be one of the Shadow mages though. Things had always seemed so black and white before they’d shown up, there was good and evil. The idea of people being neither… it just hadn’t come up much in their lives.  

 

Marik spoke again, interrupting what he felt was a rather awkward silence after his earlier proclamation, “Please continue your story, Mr Potter.”

 

“Call me Harry,” he said absently before continuing, “We later found out he’d stolen something from another thief, who’d stolen something from us which we needed to destroy. While scouting for more information, we found rumours of him having killed some government officials in the wizarding world.”

 

Marik grew a sad look on his face and whispered, “We shouldn’t have let him go off alone…” Quickly however, he looked up again with a smile and asked, “Then what happened?”

 

“We later ran into him while we were visiting my parents’ grave. Turns out his sister and mother are buried there too. That was about two weeks ago? After that, we discovered the thing he’d stolen wasn’t _just_ our type of magic, but according to Bakura, a bastardization of Shadow magic, he destroyed it himself before turning on us.”

 

“A bastardization of the Shadows?” Marik’s voice became sharp, “How do you mean?”

 

“Umm… Bakura said something about using only dark soul magic?”

 

Marik’s eyes widened in horror, “Who the _fuck_ would be foolish enough to do something like that? Even small changes in the Balance cause problems, using _pure darkness_ on the soul?” Marik shuddered, “That could destroy everything! You always need at least some mix of both for things to work right. Bakura’s right, it needed to be destroyed.”

 

“That’s what we want to do as well! In fact, that’s the main reason we need your help!”

 

“Why? Do you have more of that evil magic, in which case why not just let Bakura destroy it?” Marik questioned bluntly.

 

“Bakura said he couldn’t destroy the magic by himself in this case.”

 

“Why?” Marik asked again.

 

“Because... It was sealed in my scar by the man who killed my parents.” Harry had made sure to mention the magic wasn’t his as quickly as possible, he didn’t want Marik going crazy on him too. He didn’t know the guy, so he’d rather not risk it.

 

Marik was quiet. He studied Harry for a moment before saying, “I see. That does make it difficult, at least if you want to survive or suffer no permanent damage.”

 

“I would prefer that, yes.” Harry said stiffly.

 

“Okay, I’ll look into it.”

 

The trio looked relieved.

 

Marik seemed to notice this and spoke again, “Don’t think I’m doing it for you though. I’m doing it because if I don’t, and that taint continues to exist, Bakura will be the least of your problems. He isn’t the only Shadow Mage in the world, and honestly, there may be even more in the world than we previously estimated. And every single one will start to be more affected by this over time. Especially with the Seal now broken…”

 

The trio shivered slightly at that assertion. 

 

“But not tonight.” Marik forced back a yawn, “I’ve just sat on a rather awful plane for over six hours, and I’d quite like to bath, eat and sleep. If that’s _okay_ with you wizards?”

 

“Oh yeah, sure! The bathroom’s upstairs and down the hall to the left. We can have Kreacher fix up a room and bring up something for you to eat if you’d like.” Harry said, standing up.

 

“Thank you,” Marik said tautly, “But if you don’t mind, I brought a sleeping bag. I’ll just camp out on the floor in Bakura’s room for now if that’s okay. The food can just be sent there.”

 

“That would be all right, I guess.”

 

“Oh, and I hate to sound demanding,” Marik snickered internally as he said that. Him, not being demanding, especially to these people, “But I’m a vegetarian, so no meat products please.”

 

“Oh, Okay. No problem.” Harry said, looking a bit taken aback.

 

“Now. Please excuse me.” Marik got up and left the table without looking back.

 

They watched him leave the kitchen, his bag still with him. After a few minutes, they heard a door slam and the sound of water running faintly in the distance.

 

Ron yawned, “I don’t know about you guys, but sleep sounds like a really good idea right about now.”

 

They nodded, and wandered off to bed, Harry only pausing to call Kreacher and have some vegetarian cooking sent up to Ryou’s room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yep, the holidays slowed me down in writing and posting. working in retail over Christmas time is hell itself :'D


	17. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: RES - AWAKENING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after Marik's arrival.

That night Harry had a strange dream.

 

_He was wandering through an ancient forest. The sound of rustling leaves high above the only sound. Not even a bird stirred or fluttered in the canopy. Almost no light reached from the dense cover down to the gnarled roots he clambered over. After what seemed like forever, he finally realised where he was, it was the Forbidden Forest._

 

_Although it still felt unfamiliar, even with the dream telling him that’s where he was._

_He was moving towards his goal, but what it was, he didn’t know. It might have been a Horcrux, or it might have just been that he was trying to reach an end to the unending forest, trying to desperately spot Hogwarts somewhere in the distance, through the dense and ancient trees. He cut through thick underbrush with quick spells and he could feel himself moving closer and closer to his destination._

_Whatever that was._

_He quickened his pace._

_Suddenly - with no warning, he was trapped!_

_Caught in a giant spider web. He jerked around expecting hundreds of giant spiders to rush towards him with intent to devour his struggling form at any moment, just like they’d attempted back in his second year. He managed to crane his neck, expecting to see Aragog’s children bearing down on him when the world tilted and flipped upside down._

_He was still strung up, but the webs had turned into thick cords and he was tied to a fallen tree. He struggled against them, feeling the rope biting into his wrists and arms._

_He suddenly realised he still had his wand clenched in his fist, and desperately he tried to cut himself free with his magic from the odd angle. To no avail._

_He tried every spell in every way he could think of but nothing freed him. Not a single spell attempted sent out so much as a single spark - his magic was gone!_

_Suddenly, a nasal laugh echoed around him, and Marik - the guy he’d met just hours before approached him from the trees, laughing as Harry struggled to free himself._

_“No magic can break those bonds you fool!” Marik said slouching against a tree, shaking his head. “You’ve been using magic for every little thing lately, to do the simplest tasks and for those you don’t, you rely on someone else to do it for you. The knowledge you should actually be using is lying in forgotten books you could never be bothered to open! You’ve just been doing things to make yourself feel better rather than what you need to do to actually finish this!”_

_“That’s a lie!” Harry yelled at the blond Egyptian, “I’ve been helping Hermione and Ron for weeks now! We're doing everything we can!_

_He would have continued to yell, but suddenly, he heard voices all around him. And from every direction, his friends came running. Ron, Hermione and Ginny came rushing towards him from one direction, while the twins, Neville and Luna came from another._

_Harry cried out in joy at the sight of them and quickly yelled for them to free him. They responded quickly by casting spell after spell at his bonds in an attempt to do so._

_Yet even together they had no effect._

_From the shadows behind Marik a new figure emerged. It was Ryou Bakura!_

_The white haired boy placed an arm on Marik’s shoulder and asked, “Shouldn’t that be working?” He was pointing at Harry’s friends vain attempts to rescue him, “Friends are the only true hope in a quest like this aren’t they? The burden, shared equally between them, should have saved them all by now.”_

_“That’s would be true,” Marik said, still staring at Harry, a pitying look on his face, “If they weren’t caught in the exact same trap as him.”_

_Harry gasped as his friends were trussed up and silenced as if they’d never been free to begin with. Faces black as puppets. Within moments they’d faded away into nothing. He stared at the two Shadow Mages, wanting to yell at them, that this was somehow their fault! Only to find them fading away into the forest as well._

_Falling back against the tree Harry suddenly found himself with no plan, and no back up to come save him. He was alone in the world, he would never be free._

_He was completely alone..._

_Lying against the fallen tree he gave up. In the back of his mind he screamed at himself, Voldemort was still out there - he couldn’t give up! Not yet, not like this!_

_He could feel tears falling down his face as despair set in. Unable to move or do anything else._

_Slowly, just as the dream started to lose focus, it changed. And Harry could feel his bonds sliding off as he found himself sitting on a kitchen chair in a sterile looking kitchen._

_He was back at Privet Drive of all places!_

_Looking around in surprise, he could feel the sun streaming in through a window and could hear the electric hum of the refrigerator. Sensing someone behind him, he turned around in his chair. He saw a bulky figure come into focus from the other side of the kitchen. Blinking in surprise, he saw Dudley walking towards him, a cup of tea clutched carefully in his large hands._

_The cup of tea, which, with a nervous smile was held towards him. A cup of tea made by hand as a truce and apology by a Muggle. A Muggle and a cousin._

 

 

 

Harry woke up. He didn’t move, but he stared at the blurry ancient ceiling with his eyes wide open. He could feel drying tears still on his face. He’d never had a dream like that before, at least not one that he could remember.

 

Why had Dudley been in it? Harry pulled a face at the thought of his cousin. Had Dudley really thought a token gesture of tea would be enough to wipe away years of abuse at his heavy hands?

 

He realised that in his dream, for at least a few moments he’d actually _forgiven_ the youngest member of his Muggle family. He blinked at that thought and shook his head.

 

With a sigh, he realised he couldn’t get back to sleep and slowly he pulled himself up and started to get dressed for a new day. He looked around the room as he did. He’d chosen to stay in Sirius’s old room a few weeks into their stay at Gimmauld, in a vain attempt to understand the man, his godfather, better. He knew the man wasn’t perfect, but he’d managed to stamp his personality onto the room when he was young in a way that made him both sad and happy to be surrounded by it.

 

Happy that he could be around so much of him, and sad that the man wasn’t here himself to give his commentary on the cold old house, and to give advice to Harry and his friends in their agonisingly slow hunt for Horcruxes.

 

Horcruxes.

 

So far they hadn’t really done much. Bakura had been the one to kill Nagini, _and_ to destroy the locket. And now, soon, he and his friend Marik would be the ones to remove the one from his head. Harry felt slightly jealous at that, after years of being told he was the only one who could do it, and that he couldn’t even _tell_ people other than Ron or Hermione about the Horcruxes, or ask for any help...

 

He shook his head and pulled on his shirt. He should be grateful that it wouldn’t just be up to him. He just hoped he hadn’t made a mistake in trusting, if only slightly, the two Shadow Mages now resting in his house.

 

Well, they didn’t kill me in my sleep. Even if they did show up in my dreams, he thought to himself scathingly as he pulled on his shoes, The least I can do is see if they truly can help me out, and trust them enough to know what they’re doing.

 

As he walked to the door he realised something else had happened last night that hadn’t happened since this war began:

 

The dream had been just that, it hadn’t been _real_ \- not some vision from by Voldemort. It’d just been a normal dream, a weird one, but really what dreams weren’t?

 

He blinked and leaned his forehead against the door with the cold door knob in his hand. He gave a small thoughtful smile before pulling himself up straight and opening the door into the hallway.

 

* * *

 

Marik woke up early that day. He’d slept on the floor at the foot of Bakura’s bed, until the cold woke him up and he’d opted to try and fall back asleep on the armchair. Unfortunately it had been lumpy and uncomfortable, and he’d been unable to stretch out. It had only given him maybe another hour of actual rest before he finally gave up and decided to face the day.

 

He’d slept in a pair of cargo pants and a singlet, not having packed any real sleeping gear. Getting up, he grabbed his bag which he’d leaned against the bedpost during the night and pulled out his old lavender hoodie. Pulling it over his head he walked around the side of the bed to check on Bakura.

 

Bakura hadn’t stirred all night. Looking at him now, after a night’s rest, Marik thought he looked even worse than he had the day before. He hadn’t noticed the scar down Bakura’s face yesterday; it looked pretty old already, and was only faintly redder than the rest of his face, and slightly raised. He definitely hadn’t had it when he’d left Egypt though.

 

Marik would ask him about it when he was feeling better. The three teens probably couldn’t have caused it though, not if they’d only had him here a few weeks.

 

No need making false accusations during an already tentative alliance...

 

Bakura had always been scrawny, but this was ridiculous - he looked like he hadn’t eaten properly in months. Marik had a sneaking suspicion that was probably true.

 

He wondered for a split second how Bakura had gone to the toilet if he’d been tied to a chair the whole time he’d been here. He snorted into his hand before he stopped himself, shaking his head. He knew he shouldn’t have found that funny, not at the expense of his already worn-out friend, but now that he’d thought of it he actually really wanted to know. Then again it could easily have been that they just let him loose whenever he needed to. Or magic, it could have just been magic.

 

Bakura didn’t look like he was going to wake up anytime soon, so Marik stretched and walked out the door. Out in the corridor he realised he couldn’t remember how to get down to the kitchen. He’d been on auto drive last night, and now, after a not so reasonable night’s sleep, he couldn’t remember. Scratching his somewhat messy hair, he looked up and down the dark corridors.

 

What time was it anyway? Marik thought to himself, this place didn’t look like it had ever seen the light of day.

 

It was like a _tomb_.

 

He shivered and drew a slow and steady breath in and out. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stay in this place for any length of time. Not without Rishid here to help him. Walking down the left side of the passage, he passed door after door, but found no stairway.

 

Grumbling, he turned back the way he came when he recognised nothing. Walking back, he passed a door just as it opened. Pausing, Marik looked to see who it was.

 

“Oh! M-Marik is it? What are you doing up already?”  It was the black haired boy, Harry.

 

“Trying to find the stairway down in this nightmare of a house.” He grumbled.

 

The boy nodded back with a sympathetic look, “Yeah I know what you mean. I’ve stayed here many times, but I still find something new every time.”

 

Marik rolled his eyes, “I should add that the emphasis was on the word _nightmare_.”

 

Harry gave a sad look around him, at the house, “Yeah… things have gone pretty bad here in the past. Look, I’ll walk you to the kitchen shall I? I was going there myself.”

 

Marik nodded, “Sure.”

 

They started walking, Marik following Harry.

 

“So what happened here to make it such an awful place for you?” Marik asked curiously.

 

Harry spoke slowly, “I inherited this place from my godfather. He hated it here, and for a long time he couldn’t even leave it. He… when he died, it was my fault.”

 

Marik didn’t know what to say to that. He couldn’t judge if it was Harry’s fault or not, he didn’t know the situation, and he wasn’t sure if he should pry into the life of someone he’d just met in that way. Marik didn’t like hollow condolences, so he couldn’t apologize for the death of a man he’d never met.

 

They walked in awkward silence for a while before Marik finally spoke, having come up with something to say.

 

“Everybody makes mistakes in their lives. Some bigger than others, all you can do is make sure you don’t fall into the same situation over and over, I guess. To regret your actions allows you to atone for them, if not, hate and sorrow will consume you until not even those closest to you will recognise who you’ve become.”

 

Pausing, thinking over his words, Marik continued, “It’s kinda cliché I guess, learning from your mistakes. I think maybe what’s more important is actually _recognising_ your mistakes, and being able to tell what they really are in the first place so you _can_ actually atone for them. As well as knowing what is and _isn’t_ actually your fault.”

 

Harry looked at the Egyptian teen, his eyes wide in surprise before he nodded. Marik was right, he realised, he didn’t want Sirius to be gone, but he was, he fell through that archway and vanished forever into who knows where. The least he could do was make sure Sirius didn’t die in vain.

 

Harry had to learn Occlumency, the thought struck him, not just to stop Voldemort from using their connection he realised, but now that he thought about it, Bakura had only gone... unstable when his scar had hurt.

 

He _had_ been following his friend’s wishes about continuing with his Occlumency… At least, he’d made sure to let them see him reading the occasional Occlumency book.

 

But it was clear now that he thought about it, the connection wasn’t just hurting him, it was hurting others. He’d told his friends he would study it more after that one incident awhile back, but his heart hadn’t really been in his attempts. And now his attempts had been even more half-hearted. When they destroyed the Horcrux in his scar he wouldn’t have that connection anymore anyway, so what’d be the point?

 

He paused slightly as he really thought about that as well. He wouldn’t be connected to Voldemort anymore! Would his scar still hurt? Would he still be able to talk to snakes? Another thought struck him - how much of his personality was really his in the first place? Shaking his head he stopped himself from going further into those thoughts, he realised it didn’t matter. He couldn’t _let_ it matter. What mattered was stopping Voldemort from hurting anymore people. His problems would have to wait. He had to focus on what he _could_ change.

 

What he could fix.

 

Besides, even if he wouldn’t be connected to Voldemort for much longer, Occlumency was still an invaluable skill to have. With it he could protect his mind from others, that way no one would be able to use his knowledge against his friends if he was captured.

 

“Thanks.” Harry said honestly.

 

“No problem.” Marik yawned, covering his mouth.

 

They finally reached the kitchen, where Kreacher was busily making breakfast for the guests of Grimmauld Place. The two sat down at the table, where the old elf quickly ran to fill their plates with bacon and eggs. Harry thanked the elf, who grinned and moved to Marik, who quickly raised his hand to stop the house elf.

 

“Oh, no thanks,” The Egyptian said, his face wrinkled slightly; “Do you have any fruit instead?”

 

 “Oh, yeah,” Harry said, “I forgot you don’t eat meat.”

 

“Yeah.” Marik said, before smiling at the elf that’d quickly brought him a platter of cut fruit and thanking him. Chewing on a slice of apple he spoke again, “So Harry, what’s actually going on around here? Other than the stuff you told me about Bakura yesterday, I mean.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“This entire wizard stuff,” Marik said, waving his hand, “How does it work? My sister told me about rumours back in Egypt, but not much else.”

 

“Well, it’s hard to explain,” Harry started, “The Wizarding world’s been cut off from the Muggle – non-magical - world for centuries, I’m not sure how long exactly – you’ll have to ask Hermione, I was never good at history, but I think it was about the time of the witch burnings? The whole magical community is now basically underground, living in small corners of the world. Sometimes though, wizards or witches are born to Muggle parents, and the opposite occurs in wizards. Whatever way though, if you’re born with magic there’s this magical sensor or something that picks up on it and puts you down on the local magic schools list, so that Muggle-borns aren’t ignored because of the separation of the two worlds. When kids are young their magic isn’t very stable, so they often experience accidental magic. Once they get a wand it’s okay though, since that’s pretty much the only way to really use magic. Some people can do wandless magic, but normally they can only do real simple things.”

 

“So wait,” Marik interrupted, “If all magic users get recorded why weren’t Bakura or Yugi sent to a magic school?”

 

Harry frowned, “I don’t know, maybe Shadow magic doesn’t get picked up on?” Harry said, before asking “Why didn’t you ask why you weren’t sent?”

 

Marik smiled mirthlessly, “I wouldn’t have been able to go even if I was invited to such a school, I was supposed to spend my life underground learning rituals and history so I could lead my Clan in preparation for the return of the Pharaoh. My father would never have let me leave.”

 

Harry shivered, he’d forgotten what Marik had said last night in the haze of the early morning. He didn’t know what to say to that.

 

“In any case, I must then wonder why my brother Rishid wasn’t sent.” Marik continued, looking genuinely confused.

 

“Does your brother have regular wizards magic?” Harry asked.

 

Marik paused before nodded, “I’m pretty sure of it. I always thought he had the power to use the Shadows when I was younger, he sometimes had these weird bursts of power, but as he got older it just kind of faded out. Around the same time me and my sister started being able to use the Shadows actually. He couldn’t use the Shadows like my sister and I could, but I could tell he had power. My father didn’t think he could do anything though,” Marik paused and bit his lip, “He almost died once because I thought he could handle the power of the Shadows.”

 

Harry looked some what bothered at that, but said, “If your brother _did_ have magic he should have gotten a letter. Maybe there was some reason he couldn’t go?”

 

Marik was quiet. He _knew_ deep down that Rishid had magic, so why didn’t he go to a magic school? There were only three possible reasons. Either father didn’t let him, as he would have done with Marik, forcing Rishid to stay as Marik’s servant, rather than letting him leave. Or, Rishid _chose_ to stay to take care of him, as that was the sort of thing his adoptive brother _would_ do. Either way it was his fault.

 

It could have, however also been that the Shadow Magic intensive area the Clan lived in had almost literally shadowed them from the wizard’s magical detection somehow, forcing Rishid and any other members of the Tomb keeper Clan who may have had the luck of having a _different_ kind of magic to live their lives untrained and subdued by the Shadows around them.

 

“Is there any way he can still learn?” Marik asked out loud. Forcing those thoughts down. Focus on fixing things, not on things that couldn’t be changed.

 

Harry shrugged, “I don’t know, sorry. You could ask Hermione when she comes down.”

 

Marik paused for a moment before talking again, “Carry on with your story.”

 

Harry nodded, “Well anyway, in the wizarding world things are divided. Some of the pureblood wizards – people who have a magical lineage - believe that Muggle-born witches and wizards are lesser beings, recently they’ve even started accusing them of stealing their magic from ‘real’ wizards.” Harry sneered at that as he said it, “The prejudice has always been there, but lately it’s gotten worse because of the man who killed my parents, Vold-You-Know-Who.”

 

Marik tilted his head, “No, I don’t know who.”

 

“It’s what we refer to the evil hypocrite of a Dark Lord who currently has the whole of wizard Britan under his pasty thumb thanks to the Death Eaters – his followers – infiltrating and controlling the government.”

 

“Why? The term still sounds pretty stupid to me.”

 

“There’s a trace on his name. If it’s said he can find us.”

 

“Still, ‘You-Know-Who’? That just sounds ridiculous.” Marik looked unimpressed as he picked at his breakfast.

 

Harry looked at Marik askance. He honestly thought it was just plain strange to be so flippant about the idea of an evil murdering wizard and focus on the name instead. He also noticed that Marik hadn’t really reacted to the mention of a trace on Voldemort’s name either, not like Bakura had at any rate.

 

“What do you mean? It’s just something to call him.” Harry said.

 

“And does he _want_ the public to call him that?”

 

“Yeah, I guess.”

 

Marik burst out laughing. He couldn’t help it, it just sounded so ridiculous!

 

“What’s so funny? How can you laugh at someone who’s destroyed the lives of thousands?” Harry snapped.

 

Marik sat straight up, and looked at him, still grinning slightly, “It’s just, as a former underground crime lord, who once controlled an army of brainwashed minions known as the Ghouls myself, I’m used to that sort of thing. Not on the same level maybe, and the philosophy behind them sounds repugnant, but I was just finding it interesting how different criminal organisations work. And I’ll admit I am surprised at just how many people have tried to take over the world in the past few years.”

 

“You’re a crime lord?” Harry asked slowly. He didn’t know how to process that information.

 

“ _Former_ ,” Marik said cheerfully, “I disbanded a few years back, things are kind of boring without it though. Working a steady job just isn’t the same.”

 

Another thing Marik had said moved to the front of Harry’s mind, “Brainwashed minions? Wait, you mean you _Imperioused_ them?” He was horrified.

 

“Imperi-what?” Marik blinked, “No, I was just able to control their minds. Not that I had to for the most part, most joined with me quite willingly.”

 

At Harry’s horrified expression he quickly added, “It’s not like I do that stuff anymore anyway.”

 

Much, he mentally added.

 

“Controlling another person’s mind is an unforgivable thing in the wizarding world, any use of it can result in life-time imprisonment.” Harry said quietly.

 

Marik didn’t seem to understand the severity of this though, “Seriously? That’s pretty cool,” He said, “That means I’ve committed crimes on all sides of the law.” He sounded proud of himself.

 

Harry stared at him in horror, “How can you sound so proud of yourself? After what you said earlier?”

 

Marik sighed, suddenly looking more serious than he’d been, “Look Harry, you remember what I said earlier about admitting to your mistakes? Well I’ve made a lot, and I mean _a lot_ of mistakes in my life, the only way I can even live with myself now is by finding humour in my lesser crimes. It might sound pretty pathetic out loud, but it’s the only way I can defend myself from something much worse.”

 

“Defend you from what?” Harry asked, feeling rather uncomfortable in the blond teen’s presence after he’d just called mind control a ‘lesser crime’ in comparison to other things he’d apparently done.

 

Marik smiled, “Nothing you need to worry about. Please, you were telling me about ‘Mr I’m-Too-Cool-For-A–Name’.”

 

Harry smiled cautiously at that. He wasn’t sure about Marik, the Egyptian teen confused him, and he couldn’t help but wonder if all the Shadow Mages were this perplexing.

 

“Well, he was the one who killed my parents. He’s the guy who made the Horcruxes and keeps trying to kill me and my friends.”

 

Marik started to reply, when Ron and Hermione stumbled in, Hermione holding a massive book that she dropped on the table and started reading the moment she sat down. The only words she spoke were a mumbled ‘thank you’ to Kreacher as he slipped a plate of food in front of her.

 

Ron wasn’t much better, but managed to say good morning to Harry and shoot a cautious look at Marik before sitting down and wolfing down his food.

 

Harry blinked at the exhausted Hermione, “Hey, are you feeling alright?”

 

Looking up from her book she yawned, “I didn’t get much sleep last night Harry, that’s all. On the way to bed I stopped by the houses library for some light reading before I slept, and I found this book.” She motioned to the massive tome before her, “Nothing relevant to our mission though, just a book on the development and evolution of magic across Europe and Africa. It’s quite fascinating!”

 

Marik looked up in vague interest, “Africa? I know quite a lot about the progression of magic, or at least my type of magic from that area. Did you know Egypt was the first longstanding society built on the backbone of magic?”

 

Hermione nodded, “Yes, I read about that in school. We didn’t learn about the Shadow Magic aspect of it though, so I was rather hopeful that there might be more information on it in this book.” With a disgruntled sigh she continued, “There wasn’t, and while I must say the book is very interesting. I was rather disappointed in that. I haven’t been able to find more than a few words on it anywhere!”

 

Nodding, Marik replied, “I’m not surprised, my clan has been in charge of keeping that information pretty well hidden for millennia.”

 

Hermione harrumphed, making it clear in one sound exactly what she thought of knowledge being hidden from anyone. Ron and Harry recognised this particular sound immediately and couldn’t help but snicker somewhat.

 

“Hermione,” Marik said, turning to face her, “Harry was just telling me that you might have some information on what to do about getting later life training for an untrained wizard.”

 

Looking up from her book, she asked, “Who for? You?”

 

Shaking his head he replied, “No, my older brother, he never got a magical education in the Wizarding world, and I think he deserves to know his potential.”

 

Looking thoughtful for a moment she then said, “I’m sure that sort of thing could be organised, I wouldn’t mind doing that sort of work myself before I start my career, to see if I might enjoy teaching.” Pausing, she gave a sigh, “I’d volunteer myself right now if we weren’t busy with this war at the moment,” Looking up she said, “In fact, if we survive this war I’d be happy to help, just like you’re going to help Harry.”

 

Before anything else could be said though, Marik blinked and sat up straighter. He turned to Kreacher and said, “Can I get a plate of bacon and eggs with some toast?”

 

Surprised, Harry couldn’t help but blurt out, “You said you were a vegetarian didn’t you?”

 

Marik had gotten out of his chair and grabbed a large tray of food and tea from the house elf as he moved towards the table.

 

“It’s not for me. Bakura’s just woken up.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So since the current chapter I'm working on is giving me trouble, and because I've been busy with, and recovering from New Years stuff I'm uploading this now so I don't leave people hanging
> 
> As always, all feedback is appreciated!


	18. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: MAHEKHRU – VOICE OF REASON

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marik strode up the stairway, the tray in his hands being carried with little care as he moved briskly, causing the tea to slosh out the cup and pool around the plates as he continued to move up to the next floor up, where Bakura was awakening.

Marik strode up the stairway, the tray in his hands being carried with little care as he moved briskly, causing the tea to slosh out the cup and pool around the plates as he continued to move up to the next floor up, where Bakura was awakening.

 

He tripped slightly as he reached the landing, catching himself with only a few select Arabic curses muttered as he straightened up and righted the tray with only a slight sliding of dishes. One piece of bacon now floating in the spilt tea was the sole casualty of that incident.

 

Slowing as he walked down the corridor, he tried to keep his bearings in the old house before reaching the door he was looking for, which he carefully opened using his foot rather than bothering to put the tray down on the floor to do so using his hands.

 

Entering the room quietly, he placed the tray on the bedside table and finally turned to face Bakura.

 

The pale boy was lying still, but obviously awake. He was staring at the ceiling, motionless.

 

Marik approached him with a quick, “Morning!”

 

Bakura made an acknowledging murmur before sighing and with a blink, turning to face Marik.

 

“You okay?” Marik asked vigilantly.

 

Bakura looked back up at the ceiling before replying in a heavy tone, “I’ve caused so much damage, and I’ve destroyed so many lives with my very existence. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself, and I know that I’ll never be able to go back to being the person I always thought I was...”

 

He paused, eyes glazing over in thought.

 

“All I want is to disappear from the world after all this. My life has been one disaster after another and... It’s taken its toll on me after all this time.”

 

Marik paused, not really knowing how to reply, and waiting to hear what Bakura would say next. Bakura's voice sounded a long way off, it was like his words were coming from inside a heavy fog. He didn't like the words though, especially when Bakura continued.

 

“I’m not a hero. I’ve never been one, I’ve always been the victim or a villain and I don’t know if that will ever really change.”

 

He reached up to his face and traced the faint scar that trailed down his cheek with a pale finger. Marik struggled to find the right words, but before he could say anything, Bakura spoke again.

 

“But I’ve realised something.” Bakura finally said after the silence had started to become overwhelmingly heavy, “I can’t just give up, not yet at any rate. There’s too much left to be done, and as long as this poison exists in the Shadows I don’t think I’ll ever feel right, and at this rate, it won’t just affect me - but everyone who’s a part of the Shadows in any way. I may not be a hero, but maybe, I don’t know, maybe I can be something else. Someone who tries to do the right thing.”

 

 He gave an empty laugh and turned to face Marik.

 

“I don’t know how, but even though everything’s fallen apart and I barely know who I am anymore, I still feel lighter right now than I’ve felt in months. No, years even.”

 

“Yeah, a good night’s sleep will do that to you.” Marik joked awkwardly as Bakura slowly pulled himself up slowly from the bed. Honestly, the more Bakura spoke, the more this sounded like some sort of disassociation. And Marik was well acquainted with that, unfortunately.

 

Bakura winced slightly as he pulled himself up on shaky arms, and once he could lean safely against the headrest, he scratched at his wrists, which were still red and rubbed raw from where he’d been tied up. Noticing, Marik quickly said, “I’ll ask that Harry guy if they have anything for that.”

 

“Oh, you don’t ha-” Bakura started before Marik cut him off sharply, “It’s the _least_ they can do after all this.”

 

Bakura looked doubtful but chose not to argue the point, instead looking over at the tray Marik had brought with him. He made a face at the tea-soaked bacon before his stomach interrupted any further objections and he carefully lifted the tray onto his lap and not bothering with a fork, grabbed some of the less damp bacon and bit down. He sighed in relief.

 

“Thanks for the breakfast Marik, it helped,” Bakura said with a small smile, his eyes still staring somewhat hollowly in spite of his apparent claims of feeling better.

 

Without another word, Bakura slowly ate his meal.

 

A few minutes later, Marik spoke up again, pulling his deck out and shuffling it idly, “Do you want to play a quick game while we’re up here? Friendly, of course. No Shadow Magic.”

 

Looking up from his meal, Bakura blinked before replying, “Oh, yes actually. I feel like I haven’t played something in ages.” He paused a moment, “Oh, I forgot, I think Harry and them took them from me while I was being a bit... off.”

 

“What - they took your cards? Well, I’m going to have to go get them for you then.” Marik said heatedly, moving to stand up.

 

Bakura nodded blankly, eyes half-lidded as he started to lie back on the pillows. Marik moved the tray back onto the bedside table before it could be knocked over.

 

“Ah… Maybe later?” Bakura said distantly.

 

“You still need sleep then?”

 

Bakura nodded lightly, his eyes closing.

 

“I’ll check up on you later then.” Marik said as he moved to the door, tray in hand, “And I’ll bring your cards with me when I do.”

 

 

Marik made his way back down to the kitchen with the tray, taking care to follow the path he’d taken following Harry when he'd met up with him that morning.

 

On his way down the stairway, he met with two figures on their way up. It was the girl, Hermione and the other boy, Ron? Marik thought that was his name.

 

“Oh, are you heading back to the kitchen?” Hermione asked, “Was everything alright with Bakura?”

 

Marik saw some tightness around their eyes when she brought up Bakura. Marik hoped it was due to regret.

 

“He’s fine,” Marik said, “He’s resting again. Although if you have anything for fixing up that chafing around his wrists I can take that up to him.”

 

They cringed slightly, and the girl spoke, "Yes, I'm sure I can find something to help with that."

 

A thought entered his head, “Where are you two going anyway? You’re not going to go barging in on him are you?”

 

They looked at each other nervously.

 

The boy spoke, “Well, honestly we were going to check in, and see what’s up after you left the kitchen. But we aren’t going to bug him if he’s out again.”

 

Marik nodded, satisfied, “What about your friend, Harry? I don't see him here, didn’t he want to do the same?”

 

Ron pulled a face, “Probably, but Hermione reminded him he had to study Occlumency and he actually decided to listen without a fight for once.”

 

Marik nodded uncomprehendingly, “I have no idea what that is.”

 

“Oh!” Hermione gasped, “Sorry, we shouldn’t assume you know things like that!”

 

“Yeah, sorry about that, I don’t know much about the cultural differences between the Muggle and Wizarding World, but I should have figured a magic like that might not be common knowledge to someone pretty new to all this.” Ron smacked himself in the head, “Hemione do you want to explain?”

 

Hermione spoke up, the words practically bursting out of her, “Yes! If you'd like, I'd be happy to explain it to you - it’s a sort of mental magic that’s used as a mental defence.”

  
Marik blinked, but then nodded, “Yes, why not. That does sound interesting.”

 

Suddenly Hermione gasped, “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry, here we are talking in the middle of the stairway and you’re still holding that tray!”

 

Taking it from him, Hermione shoved it into Ron’s unprotesting hands, “Ron, take this to the kitchen – I’ll take Marik to the library and fill him in on Occlumency.”

 

Ron rolled his eyes with a good-natured expression and made his way back down the stairs.

 

“Right, well!” Hermione said, “We have quite a few books on the topic, Harry’s been learning it for a while now, and I’ve been working on the basics with Ron as well lately since it _honestly_ is such a useful magic –“

 

Mental magic did seem like something that would be useful, even if he had no idea if he actually could use this wizard magic or not. But really, the idea of trapping himself in some dank library with this near stranger wasn’t appealing in the least, but he clearly didn’t know enough about this world and he needed to know more of what he was getting himself into. Still, before that happened he had to sort a few things out...

 

“Sorry to cut you off,” Marik said, raising his hands, “But before we do, I was wondering if I could have Bakura’s deck – I noticed he didn’t have it, and I said I’d fetch it for him.”

 

“Oh! Yes, of course,” Hermione said, “It’s actually in the library, so you can get it while we’re there.”

 

Marik felt a rush of relief at how easy that had been. For some reason, he’d expected resistance to letting Bakura have his deck back. He was glad that wasn’t the case.

 

“And one more thing, if you don’t mind?” Marik asked, “Do you have a phone I can borrow, I promised I’d let my sister know everything was fine once I arrived in the UK, but with everything last night I completely forgot.”

 

“Oh!” Hermione started, “Sorry, I didn’t even think about that. We don’t have a phone unfortunately, this house doesn’t have much in terms of Muggle technology. But you’re welcome to borrow Ron’s owl to send a message to her.”

 

Marik sighed, he supposed that was as good an option as he was going to get, “Thank you,” He smiled, “Now, please continue explaining… Oclu-mency?”

 

Hermione nodded, a fire back behind her eyes, “Yes, the library is just up here. If you don’t mind me asking, do you mind explaining more about Shadow Magic to me as well?”

 

Marik shrugged, “I don’t mind. Technically the information is protected by my clan, but I don’t really care much. What do you want to know?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

**At Hogwarts, Two weeks ago:**

 

 

Snape strode up the stairway into the headmaster’s office, his office, and let the door slam behind him. Robes billowing after him he continued to his desk, a sneer plastered on his face.

 

“Oh dear, what seems to be the problem now my old friend?” said a voice from the wall.

 

“You know perfectly well Albus,” he sneered at the portrait, “You were right here when those dunderheaded Gryffindor’s broke in and tried to steal the sword.”

 

“Oh yes, that. I was pretending to be asleep at the time. I don’t see what the problem is Severus, we replaced the real sword with the replica months ago. Handing the replica over into Bellatrix’s care should not be a concern.”

 

“Ah yes, your grand plan to keep my cover, pretending to be asleep when anyone other than I am around, brilliant as usual. I’ve heard rumours among the students and staff. They’re all under the impression that I must have cast some curse on you to prevent you from waking and relaying information to the Order.”

 

Dumbledore smiled, “Well that’s perfect then isn’t it my friend? No need to sound so acerbic, the plan is working in our favour.”

 

Snape sighed, “That part perhaps, but too much has gone wrong of late. Those idiots breaking in and stealing the sword, fake or not, has caused much trouble, and has gone so far as to bring the situation to the Dark Lords attention.

The students have gone out of their way to aggravate the Carrows’, and I’m no longer able to divert punishments to Minerva or that oaf Hagrid without suspicion. More and more students are disappearing too. I know some are hiding in the castle, living in the Room of Requirement most likely, which they’ve gone and made inaccessible to me. But I haven’t been able to keep track of which have simply run away to escape punishment, and which have indeed been spirited away by the Carrows in the middle of the night and taken to the Dark Lord to be used as pawns to keep their families in line.”

  
Snape rested his head in his hands, leaning heavily on the desk. Dumbledore had assumed that by sealing his loyalty to the Dark Lord, Severus would have an easier time, needing only to play one role to the public. All it had done was cause him to gain opposition at every turn and lose him allies which he required in order for many of their plans to work smoothly.

 

He’d been stretching himself out more than ever as he tried to run a school where near all the students and staff loathed him and attempted to make his life even more difficult. Which ironically resulted in him being able to do less to thwart the Dark Lord himself. He sneered at the thought.

 

His iron self-control and skill at Occlumency was the only thing preventing him from cursing them all and rubbing the fact that they were sabotaging their own goals by impeding him in their faces.

 

The life of a spy was infuriating.

 

“We should focus on getting the real sword to Harry,” Dumbledore said, pulling Snape out of his brooding.

 

“And if I had the time and information to do so successfully it would have been long done by now.” Snape snapped at him, “Since Nagini was killed the Dark Lord has been both… easily displeased with his followers, and painfully attentive to Hogwarts. Presumably, I’m not brainwashing the children well enough, and if I don’t start getting things done the way he wants soon, he plans to replace me with LeStrange.”

 

“Yes, I’ve been wondering about that. Nagini’s death was unexpected, in no small part due to her status as Tom’s Horcrux. I have thus far only been able to conclude that this event was due to the work of Harry, which can only mean he’s found another means of destroying them. Tell me, Severus, have you found any information surrounding Nagini’s death?”

 

“No. All I’m aware of is that the Bagshot house, where Nagini was killed has been burned to the ground since then.”

 

Dumbledore made a genuinely sad expression at the mention of Bathilda, “Dear Granny Bagshot. I do wonder what’s become of her. But at any rate, the fire gives me some suspicion of how Harry may have been able to destroy Horcruxes without the sword. He may have learned how to cast fiendfyre.”

 

“That idiot!” Snape exploded in shock, “Has he any idea how dangerous that is? At this rate, he’ll kill himself before the Dark Lord gets the chance.”

 

“While I disagree with your tone, I must agree it is a dangerous and reckless thing for him to be doing, which makes it all the more pressing to make sure the sword reaches him soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new chapter! as always, feel free to point out any errors etc :D


	19. CHAPTER NINETEEN: MEKY - ONE WHO PROTECTS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marik and Bakura were playing Duel Monsters. They were sitting cross-legged on either end of Bakura’s bed, their cards spread out on over the duvet.

**Hogwarts, one and a half weeks ago:**

 

 

Neville moved slowly through the dark corridor, making sure to stay out of the light as he carefully made his way down to the kitchens. It was late at night, and the castle was silent, but for his muffled footsteps, which only he could hear thanks to a quick spell cast before he’d left.

 

Since the Christmas holidays had started, almost all the Slytherin students had returned home, since most of them still had families to escape to, rather than being stuck with the Carrow’s. Neville almost felt sorry for the extra attention the Slytherin’s received from the sadistic teachers. He could recognise that regardless of their actual views, with that level of constant scrutiny the only cunning (Slytherin) thing to do was to go along with it. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

 

Still, he didn’t mention this view to the others in the DA, because by this point the divide between the Houses was far too great. He did feel his view was at least somewhat vindicated by how quickly the Slytherin’s had moved to get away, if only for the short time granted them by the holidays. It wasn’t a brave thing to do, but he could see why they would.

 

There were also students from the other houses that also left, mainly from the more neutral pureblood families, as well as other Dark sympathisers whose families merited being left alone. After years of bullies and quietly watching life at Hogwarts pass around him from the outskirts, he knew better than most that Slytherin didn’t have a monopoly on bad people.

 

Neville wasn’t lucky enough to have a home to escape to anymore. Several months ago he’d discovered his grandmother had gone missing after a Death Eater raid. He knew she couldn’t be dead though, the Death Eaters wouldn’t have hesitated publicising the death of a known Light sympathiser to kill public morale. At least… he really hoped as much.

 

Moving around the next corner, he stopped behind a large statue, ducking out of sight quickly as he saw the shimmer of a ghost down the hall. Waiting silently until the ghost, the Grey Lady, had passed, he held his breath a few more minutes.

 

He was about to start moving again when a hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder.

 

In one swift move he spun around, wand out in front of him quickly on the defensive. He stopped when he was who it was though. Quickly recasting Muffliato to include the new person, he dropped back down out of sight behind the statue.

 

“Ginny, what are you doing here?” he whispered, even with the spell in place, “You’re supposed to be patrolling around the Carrow’s rooms and the dungeons tonight.”

 

During the time that the two had become the defacto leaders on the Hogwarts resistance, they’d taken turns scouting out around the castle in order to find other students who’d run away, but had nowhere to go, and to find students who were being held prisoner or even tortured by the Death Eaters of Hogwarts.

In those particular cases, they would report back at the Room of Requirement and gather a team together before attempting a rescue usually.

 

Usually that team consisted of three people, Ginny, himself and Luna.

 

Speaking of…

 

Ginny looked grim, “I’ve already finished scouting. I didn’t find any trace of Luna down there”.

 

Neville felt his heart sink. Luna, surprisingly one of the resistance’s best strategists as a result of her unique way of thinking, had gone missing a few days ago while on patrol. They could only assume at the time that she’d been caught, and as such had immediately started checking the usual Carrow and Filch holding areas.

 

It had been four days with still no luck.

 

“She defiantly isn’t anywhere in the castle,” Ginny continued hollowly, “At this point we can only assume one thing.”

 

“They’ve taken her out of Hogwarts.” Neville finished.

 

She nodded, “It must be to keep the Quibbler in line. If she was just being punished for running away she’d still be here somewhere.”

 

Neville leaned his head against the statue next to him. Luna was one of his best friends. He, Ginny and Luna had become the new Golden Trio to the students this year. In particular the DA.

 

He wanted to organise a rescue even now, he wanted to do something to rescue Luna, but he had nothing to go on. He didn’t know where she’d been taken, and he couldn’t just abandon Hogwarts.

 

The other students needed him and Ginny to be here to fight for them. As much as it killed him, there was nothing they could do.

 

He felt Ginny’s hand on his shoulder again and he turned to look at her. From her face he could tell she’d come to the same conclusion. Her eyes looked only slightly weary and a rather blank, almost apathetic look was on her face. After years of knowing her though, he knew how much she cared right now. That expression only came on when she cared about something too much, but still had to deal with the stuff in front of her.

 

Few people knew it about her, but in her second year, after the trauma of being possessed by Voldemort in her first, she’d spent much of her time reading up how to prevent something like that ever happening again. She learned Occlumency in secret, not telling anyone out of fear of being pitied because of her reasons.

Only in Neville’s fifth year, after they’d been friends for a while, did she tell him and Luna. Neville always got the feeling Ginny kept a lot of secrets to herself…

 

“We’ve got to keep going.” She said quietly.

 

Wiping a hand across his face he sighed, before nodding, “I’ve still got to get more supplies from the kitchen, you want to come with?”

 

Ginny nodded.

 

Together they continued in the direction Ginny had just come from, when they heard footsteps. They were out in the open, and Neville was just about to suggest making a break for it, when Ginny pulled out her wand and cast a silent spell on a large mirror in the hallway. Neville blinked in surprise at the lack of any sparks set off by her wand, he’d have to ask her how she managed to do that.

 

It sprang open silently, revealing a small hidden room, which the two quickly climbed into quickly before pulling it shut after them. The mirror closed with a painfully audible click that seemed to echo around them.

 

They both winced at the sound before listening very carefully. The mirror itself revealed itself to be two-way, and to their horror, the sound of the footsteps increased until they were revealed to belong to Amycus Carrow himself.

 

“I heard you, you filthy brat.” The man muttered under his breath, standing at the far end of the hallway, “You couldn’t have gone far.”

 

He started to move towards them, studying the hall carefully, as if expecting a rogue student to just pop up in front of him.

 

After an agonisingly long time, Amycus reached the mirror, and looked right at it. To the two hidden inside it seemed like they were being looked right in the eye as the man stared at the mirror, a sadistic and vain look on his face.

 

“Well, well, well.” He muttered, “What a large mirror. Almost suspiciously so, I may be inclined to think.”

 

Neville and Ginny clutched their wands at the ready as the man touched the frame with a fingertip.

 

Pulling out his own wand, he pointed it towards the mirror.

 

“Amycus!” A voice said loudly from down the corridor.

 

He paused, and slowly lowered his wand, before turning towards the voice, “Ah, Severus! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

 

Through the mirror, they saw Snape come into view.

 

“This just keeps getting better and better.” Ginny mumbled sarcastically Neville silently agreed, but didn’t trust himself to speak. Everything about Snape still put him on edge, no matter how much older he got. He was thankful he never had to take another lesson with the awful man as long as he lived.

 

“I was just on my way to inform you that it’s almost time of the year for the students to sit their exams.” Snape said calmly.

 

“What? What concern is that of mine?” Amycus scowled in annoyance.

 

“I understand that you are new to... teaching,” Snape said with a mocking pause, “But it is required for teachers to submit their exam plans to the headmaster for review so they can be checked for suitability.”

 

“The Dark Lord put me in charge of teaching the Dark Arts here, not you! I’ll examine them how I damn well please!” Amycus growled.

 

“Be that as it may, he put me in charge of the school itself, and while it might not be of concern to you, the brats in this place do require an education. It would hardly do for the first generation under the Dark Lord’s reign to be a group of illiterate near Squibs, unproven to be capable of casting even the most basic of spells.” Snape drawled.

 

Amycus looked infuriated, before surprisingly calming slightly, “You may be right. I _am_ new at teaching. That may explain why the students are doing so… poorly in their studies of the Cruciatus Curse. They can barely summon enough power to _pinch_ the troublemakers we bring in for them. Perhaps I should start working on their examinations. Nothing like a little… pressure to get them to put in an effort.”

 

Amycus was obviously off in his own world now, and Neville shuddered slightly at the realisation that this man _really_ thought his students just lacked motivation, that he honestly couldn’t imagine that children didn’t want to torture their friends and classmates. This man was sicker than he thought.

 

Snape however did not react to Amycus’s words, “I trust you understand the importance of this task?”

 

“I believe I do.” Amycus said.

 

“Good. I require all seven years of Dark Arts papers to be written up within two weeks at the latest.”

 

“Two weeks? That’s hardly enough time!” Amycus snapped back.

 

“You’d best get on to it then.” Snape said with a slight sneer.

 

“Fine! I’ll start on that now then.” He scowled. “But first...”

 

He turned back towards the mirror, and Neville and Ginny stiffened up again, wands at the ready.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Snape sneered.

 

Amycus turned to Snape, “I have reason to believe a troublemaker may be hiding behind this mirror.”

 

“Do you now?” Snape asked, “Leave it to me then, you go do your work.”

 

“But-“

 

“If there _is_ anyone hidden there I will be sure to drop them off with Filch or your sister.”

 

He didn’t look happy, but with a mocking bow, Amycus turned around and swept away.

 

Snape stared at Amycus’s back until he was out of sight, and then just stood there.

 

“What the hell is he doing?” Ginny muttered, frustration leaking into her voice, “Why doesn’t he just get it over with?”

 

Slowly, Snape turned towards the mirror. The two got into defensive positions, ready to fight their way through him when he opened the mirror.

 

Snape however, didn’t even draw his wand. He just stared seemingly right at them, through the mirror, before turning and walking away, muttering something they couldn’t quite make out.

 

As his footsteps echoed away before vanishing, Neville and Ginny looked at each other in shock.

 

“What just happened?” Ginny asked numbly.

 

“I have no idea.” Neville replied, still in shock. Snape must have decided Carrow was full of it. For a moment he allowed himself to be grateful that the only thing Death Eaters seemed to hate more than the students under their ‘care’, was each other.

 

“Neville?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I think from now on we get our supplies from Hogsmead if possible. We’ve almost got the portal set up now.”

 

“I agree.” Neville said, “And Ginny?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Next time please don’t get us trapped in a dead-end.”

 

“I’ll do my best not to.” She agreed, laughing, giddy with relief at their close call now that they were safe. Or at least safer than before.

 

 

* * *

 

**Grimmauld Place:**

 

 

Marik and Bakura were playing Duel Monsters. They were sitting cross-legged on either end of Bakura’s bed, their cards spread out on over the duvet.

 

“Well… I now have enough fiends in my graveyard to summon Dark Necrofear.” Bakura smiled as he moved the cards out of his graveyard to be discarded, before placing Necrofear in attack mode. “I can also draw a zombie card from my deck, as a result of you destroying my Goblin Zombie.”

 

“Should have expected that.” Marik groaned, as Necrofear demolished Marik’s Dream Clown, whose special ability he’d used in his previous turn to destroy Bakura’s face down Goblin Zombie. He still had his Bistro Butcher (and another weak facedown monster that had thus far been ignored), which he had used to destroy Bakura’s Gross Ghost of Fled Dreams. The destruction of which had given him enough fiends in the grave to get them to this point.

 

“I’ll sacrifice my Butcher to summon Millennium Golem in defence, place two cards facedown and end my turn.” Marik said.

 

This put them at a stalemate for now. Bakura put another monster face down in defence. His left hand trembled slightly, and he switched his cards over to his right hand and flexed his left a few times to get rid of the twitch. It still felt slightly numb.

 

His hand had been acting up worse than usual ever since he’d been tied up... Maybe it was a blood flow thing that was setting off his nerve damage or something?

 

Drawing a card, Marik smirked at the sight of Man-Eater Bug, which he placed facedown.

 

Bakura put another monster facedown, and ended his turn without attacking. “You may be bluffing with that card, but I’m not going to risk it quite yet.”

 

Marik made a face before drawing his next card. Summoned Skull, Ha! Now he didn’t need to rely on the Bug.

 

“I sacrifice one of my facedown cards to summon Summoned Skull, which I use to attack Dark Necrofear.” That also brought Bakura’s life points down by 300, leaving him on 700, with Marik still on 1500.

 

“You’ve really forgotten what Necrofear does, haven’t you?” Bakura smiled sweetly, despite the blow to his life points.

 

“What?” Marik asked.

 

“I now use Necrofear’s effect to take control of your Summoned Skull, and use it to attack your remaining facedown card.”

 

That was Man-Eater Bug. Flipping it over, Marik used it to destroy his former monster rather than one of Bakura’s facedown cards, since it was the larger threat.

 

Bakura just smiled at that, as if he’s been expecting it.

 

Drawing another card he found himself looking down at Cyber Jar, which he quickly put facedown before ending his turn.

 

Bakura also drew a card, which he placed face down, leaving him with just one space left for monsters before ending his turn.

 

Marik drew again to get Vorse Raider. Where the hell were all his useful magic and trap cards right now? Choosing to hang on to the Raider for now, he ended his turn.

 

Looking right at him, Bakura gave a rather evil looking grin, before placing down Dark Hole. With that, all of their monsters were sent to the grave in an instant. Bakura then placed a monster in defence and ended his turn, still smiling.

 

After drawing, he placed his Raider in attack mode, and ended his turn without attacking. He was sure that was another effect monster, something Bakura used plenty of, and he didn’t have the defences to risk it.

 

It was a surprise then when Bakura smirked, “I will now sacrifice my facedown Headless Knight to summon my Shadow Ghoul, which gains 100 life points for every monster in my graveyard, bringing it up to 2600.”

 

He then destroyed Marik’s Raider and brought his life points down to 900.

 

“Why you-“ Marik started in frustration, pausing to consider the hopeless situation before he suddenly remembered something.

 

Now that Bakura was clearly doing better than he had been, he hadn’t said anything else that had given Marik any cause for concern the last few days while he was recovering, Marik should fill him in on the news.

 

“Oh – before I forget, there’s actually something I’ve been meaning to let you know. But I’ve kind of forgotten to mention it, what with everything,” Marik said.

 

Bakura glanced up at him curious, “Oh?”

 

“Yeah,” Marik pulled a face and glanced at the door to make sure it was closed, “You know how my sister theorised how the Shadows would react after being locked away for three thousand years?”

 

“Yes”, Bakura nodded, “That the broken seal would have a limited impact overall due to how long they’ve been gone from the world, right?”

 

“Something like that,” Marik nodded, “Well, turns out she may have been… overly reserved in her prediction.”

 

Bakura almost dropped his cards, “What?”

 

Marik smiled awkwardly, “Yeah that was my reaction. It’s not _that_ bad though, it still seems to be very limited,” He paused, “But it turns out that even _limited_ when you take into account the entire population of the world is still something. She wasn’t _technically_ wrong, but we didn’t really account for scope.”

 

“So you’re saying there’s unknown people out there with access to Shadow Magic?” Bakura asked, recalling his first panicked thoughts when he’d first stumbled across the wizarding world, “I mean, are you sure it isn’t just this other magic? The wizards?”

 

Marik nodded, “Yeah. We actually first found out about them when Isis decided to look into some things.”

 

“You’ll never guess how we discovered more people than we originally thought were affected though.” Marik said with a grin.

 

“How?” Bakura asked, leaning forward, keeping his cards down and covered Marik noticed. Damn, he was hoping to catch a peek while Bakura was distracted.

 

“Yugi and Jounochi decided to go to a pachinko parlour for fun since they’re just old enough now, to play a few games,” Marik grinned, “Apparently they got kicked out for rigging the games after _Jounochi_ won every single one.”

 

There was silence at the implication.

 

Bakura mouth hung open in surprise, “You’re joking!”

“No, I’m really not!” Marik laughed, “Yugi phoned Isis after the two of them tested it out more. It turns out Jou’s luck is unstoppable.”

 

Marik shook his head and clarified, “Well, almost unstoppable. According to them they actually think he’s been using magic even before the seal broke, thanks to him being around so much Shadow Magic and the Pharaoh from the beginning. Apparently he’s won every duel against _non_ -Shadow users in the past even as a complete novice, and they also brought up that time he was able to drag himself out of the Shadow Game… that part of me, sent him into. Yugi thinks the only reason he wasn’t able to win more is because he didn’t actually know he was using it. The more they thought about it, the more they realised how much luck always worked in his favour.”

 

Bakura nodded, making a sound of agreement, “That makes sense! Jou has always been really lucky! The only times his luck has really gone wrong is when other Shadow Magic users get involved. Although… if they think it’s been going on for that long is there really any connection to the seal?”

 

Marik nodded, “We were sceptical at first too. It wasn’t until I saw these two strange kids, probably siblings, while Rishid and I were in Cairo a few months back - they were picking pockets and then hiding in plain sight - that we had more confirmation. They disappeared before I could reach them, but I told my sister. And it’s not an isolated incident. We’ve heard of incidents all over the world in the last year. The cases are few, but they do seem to exist, where they didn’t before.”

 

“So is it more people, I don’t know… spontaneously developing the ability to use them, or is it just people who _could_ have potentially used them, or maybe reincarnations of people who were less directly connected to the events three thousand years ago, suddenly finding out they can do so more easily?” Bakura mused.

 

Marik shrugged, “Something of a chicken and egg situation you know? If they only realised after the Seal was broken that they could it makes it harder to judge. Before now only people who knew about the Shadows would probably even think to try I guess? But we don’t really know much for certain yet.”

 

Bakura looked thoughtful, and rearranged the cards in his hand as he thought, when suddenly there was a knock on the door and soon after, Harry peered in.

 

“Oh, hello.” Bakura said nervously.

 

Harry fidgeted slightly before asking, “Hi, um. Sorry to push this, but if Bakura’s recovered enough now, shouldn’t we start working out what’s got to be done with the Horcrux in my scar?”

 

There was silence for a moment, in which Marik shot Bakura a quick look. Bakura sat thoughtfully for a moment before nodding, “I think so. The sooner we get this over with the better.”

 

“Does that mean you forfeit?” Marik asked slyly, bringing the focus back to their half abandoned game.

 

Bakura turned back to Marik and replied with a grin, “It’s not a forfeit if we both know I was going to win.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, my motivation is starting to flag. writing an approximately 50 chapter fic when you write words inside out half the time, not including other spelling and grammar issues, is really hard tbh... :|
> 
> If you actually like this fic, please let me know because I really need the motivation to push through this block right now so I can keep going ; ;
> 
> (and seriously - point out any mistakes. even Grammarly can only help so much when faced with me)


	20. CHAPTER TWENTY: SMAE - JUSTIFIER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marik and Ryou trailed after Harry as he led the way to the kitchen. There was a thick cloud of tension in the air as they walked

Marik and Ryou trailed after Harry as he led the way to the kitchen. There was a thick cloud of tension in the air as they walked, mainly between Harry and Ryou, who remained distant from each other as they walked even now. Ryou honestly had no idea how to bridge that gap, or if it would even be welcomed or not. He had promised to help them, but that didn’t mean they liked him or would even think to befriend him.

 

Once in the kitchen, the three of them joined Ron and Hermione sitting around the table. The two looked sombre, Hermione was distractedly reading a small book. Ryou managed to catch half the title, something Beedle the Bard? Before she closed the book with a sharp snap and put it down as they approached.

 

“So,” Harry said awkwardly, now that they were all gathered, “How is this going to work?”

 

The two Shadow Mages looked at each other before Marik started to explain, much to Ryou’s relief.

 

“Um. Well, basically we’re going to have to force the Horcrux to the front, so to speak. So that we can access it without _you_ getting in the way.” He paused for a moment looking at the confused expressions of the trio, “I’m not explaining it right, Bakura?”

 

Ryou took a breath as the torch was handed over to him and spoke up nervously, he didn’t want to be the one to explain this to them, “What he means is we have to force Harry’s entire consciousness, his soul, separate from the Horcrux into his Soul Room.”

 

“My what?” Harry asked, sounding lost.

 

“Soul Room. It’s basically a mental space that sums up a person’s existence in some ways. It’s kind of an abstract concept unless you’re aware of it.” Marik responded waving his arm glibly.

 

Nodding, but with a slight tilt of his head at the way Marik chose to describe it, Ryou continued, “Yes, something like that. Um. You’ll know when you see it. But anyway, once you’re in your Soul Room, it’ll help force any remaining consciousness to take control of your body and –“

 

“What?!” Came several voices at once. Ryou cringed, this was what he wasn’t looking forward to.

 

“You’re going to let You-Know-Who take over Harry’s body?” Ron gasped in horror.

 

“I don’t like this, it sounds like a bad idea.” Hermione murmured.

 

“It’s the only way to separate the two without the almost _certain_ possibility of causing permanent damage to Harry over there’s mind.” Marik shot back, pointing at Harry.

 

“Look, if we force the Horcrux into control, it means we can face it in a Shadow Game, and by winning we can seal the soul fragment stuck inside Harry into a new object, which we can then destroy,” Ryou spoke up in an attempt to argue their point further.

 

“I don’t know,” Harry said over the nervous murmurs of his friends, “Unleashing You-Know-Who inside our base of operations seems like a very bad idea.”

 

“Harry’s right, who knows what that would do to the Fidilius charm,” Hermione spoke up at that, nodding in agreement at the point he'd brought up.

 

“We won’t be.” Ryou replied up quietly, “The plan is to first bring you into the Shadow Realm with us first so as to give us the advantage - and he wouldn’t be able to leave _there_ without winning the game against me. And we don’t plan on that happening.”

 

“What would happen if he did win?” Harry asked nervously.

 

The two shifted uncomfortably, “Well,” Marik spoke up, saving Ryou from this particular aspect of their plan, “As it stands we _were_ going to use the possibility of him taking permanent control over your body to entice him into the game.”  


“No bloody way!” Ron spoke up, “No way are we risking Harry like that. What if you lose?”

 

“We won’t. And even if we do, we have a back-up plan.” Marik said firmly.

 

“Yeah? What’s that?” Ron challenged.

 

The Shadow Mages were silent.

 

“You don’t have a back-up plan, do you?” Harry asked, a look of dread growing on his face.

 

“Not really,” Marik admitted, looking abashed, “But we’re pretty good at making things up as we go along. Sort of.”

 

“Why do I not feel at ease to hear that?” Harry sighed, running a hand through his messy hair.

 

“It’s not as bad as it sounds, honest.” Ryou said, wincing slightly, not able to say more to help the situation.

 

“Yeah, right.” Ron muttered.

 .

.

. 

Harry sighed and rubbed his scar in thought. This did not sound like a good idea at all. He was half convinced he should just stick to his Occlumency and just hope for the best. But on the other hand, he doubted the Shadow Mages were going to let this slide now from all they’d said about the balance and everything.

 

“Okay, fine.” Harry spoke out loud, “If that’s what’s got to happen.”

 

“Harry!” Hermione and Ron looked horrified.

 

“Look, I don’t see another way about dealing with this, so we might as well _try_ this and hope for the best.”

 

“Okay,” Marik spoke up before Ron and Hermione could protest further, “If we go through with this you’ve got to know what to do on your end.”

 

“My end?” Harry asked, confused.

 

Ryou nodded, “Ah, yes. Nothing major really, but it is _very_ important.”

 

“What is it?” Harry asked cautiously.

 

“Well, once you’re in your Soul Room it’s very likely there will be some kind of door or opening there as a result of the Horcrux. Something connecting your soul and its soul. All you need to do is _not_ go near it at all. And whatever you do don’t touch it.” Ryou explained slowly, “It might not end up mattering, but it’s the only way we can be sure that we only seal his soul without damaging you in some way. So it’s better not to risk it, given how tainting this magic is.”

 

“Sounds simple enough.” Harry nodded in understanding.

 

“Harry, you can’t be serious about doing this!” Ron exclaimed, rising from his seat, chair screeching backwards along the kitchen floor.

 

“Ron, think about it.” Harry said, “It’s got to be done eventually. And the longer we put it off the more time Volde-You-Know-Who will have inside my head, and who knows what he’s going to do with that power.”

 

“Why not just stick to your Occlumency?” Ron argued, echoing Harry’s previous thoughts, “It’s been working fine these last few weeks.”

 

Harry sighed, “As much as my Occlumency has improved lately, it’s still not a permanent solution, and it doesn’t change the fact that I’ve got a bloody Dark Lord in my head.”

 

Ron seemed to crumple slightly at that. He sat back down at the table and sighed into his hands.

 

“Look mate, I get that you have to do this,” Ron spoke slowly, “But as your friend that doesn’t make it any easier for me to see you put your life in the hands of two strangers, one of which we _know_ is unstable.”

 

Ryou shrank a bit at this statement, but didn’t disagree.

 

Ron looked as if he’d bitten something sour at Ryou’s quiet reaction and he looked away.

 

Hermione moved to put an arm around Ron, who looked tired without his righteous anger. She understood where he was coming from, and nodded solemnly as she clasped his tense hand and looked at Harry.

 

“We know you’ve got to do this, but it _is_ hard for us, Harry. Knowing we can’t help.” She spoke softly.

 

“We’ll be right there with you though,” Ron said fiercely, pulling his head back up to look Harry in the eyes.

 

Marik shook his head, “That probably wouldn’t be a good idea. The Shadow Realm can be incredibly harmful to most people, and the exposure would probably cause you to pass out almost immediately.”

 

Ron seemed to wilt further at this statement. “What use am I as a friend if I can’t even be there with you for this?” he murmured.

 

“Ron,” Harry said, “I know you, and Hermione, will always be there when it really matters, and I know you’ll be right here when I get back. You guys are my best friends, and I trust you. So trust me when I say I’ll be okay.”

 

Harry spoke with more bravado than he felt, but he did feel more intent on getting through this Shadow Game in one piece than ever. He didn’t want to disappoint his friends after all.

 

“If you want, we can get started.” Ryou spoke quietly, not wanting to disrupt the friends as they amped themselves up to deal with what was to come.

 

Pushing his glasses up, Harry nodded, “Let’s move to the downstairs living room, there’s more room to… do whatever it is you guys are going to do there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoo... i didn't mean to leave things hanging this long! Your comments were really inspiring the last chapter and really helped <3  
> but unfortunately, I had life stuff that needed to be dealt with (applying for a new job, dealing with insurance and other gross grown-up things)


	21. CHAPTER TWENTY ONE: NEB IRT KHT – LORDS OF RITUAL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group walked into the dank and gloomy living room, a sober air of disquiet following the trio, who hung close together slightly separate from the other two.

 

                     

The group walked into the dank and gloomy living room, a sober air of disquiet following the trio, who hung close together slightly separate from the other two.

“So, what now?” Harry spoke up, keeping his voice steady.

“Well, we’ve had some trouble coming up with an idea for the Shadow Game, as I’ve always tended towards using Duel Monsters.” Marik started.

“And I’ve generally used RPGs of some sort, as well as the card game,” Bakura added.

Nodding, Marik continued, “Since we doubt this dark lord will have much understanding of either, it would be difficult to entice him into a game using either of them. However, we don’t want to use a game that’ll end up giving him the advantage over us either. So we were wondering what games you might have around that we could try and use.”

None of the trio spoke for a while, thinking of anything they might have seen around the house when Ron spoke up slowly.

“I have a chess set.”

The Shadow Mages looked thoughtful.

“That could work.” Bakura murmured, “I’m pretty good at chess.”

Marik nodded, “Go grab the board, we’ll get things ready here so long for when you get back.”

Ron nodded in return, with a small frown and moved to leave the room.

“I’ll go with,” Bakura spoke up suddenly and moving to follow Ron.

Marik shot Bakura a strange look as he moved past him, but gave a small confirming nod as Bakura returned a look back to him.

.

.

The two made their way in silence up the stairway to Ron’s room. Both looking tense at each other’s presence.

Bakura broke the silence first, “So, you like chess?”

Startled at the attempt at conversation, Ron looked over at him before turning back to the stairs and responding, “Oh, yeah.”

“That’s neat. Do you like any other games as well?” Bakura said, with forced cheer.

Ron was taken aback at the continued attempt at conversation, but replied again, “I mean, yeah. But mostly chess. I like the strategy involved and the way you have to think from multiple sides at the same time.”

Bakura nodded, a hint of relief in his eyes when Ron finally responded, “Oh, yes! I understand completely. If you like strategy games you might enjoy Duel Monsters - it also relies on strategy and knowing how your cards work with each other and utilising them against your opponent.”

Despite himself, Ron found himself interested at that description.

“That actually does sound kind of interesting,” Ron admitted.

He glanced over at the pale boy walking beside him and sighed. Ron could feel himself slipping, he’d tried so hard to hang on to his anger towards the other boy. Especially after the Veritaserum. Which, especially after Hermione’s description, Ron could only justify their using because of the clear and present danger they’d been under at the time.

He’d been really angry then, especially with his friends in danger. And he’d tried to hang on to that righteous anger the last week, even as it did its best to flee him.

And now, they were trusting the source of that anger and confusion to help them… 

They reached the room and Ron started digging through the mess to find his chess set, Bakura watching uncertainly from the doorframe.

“You guys don’t know what you’re doing, do you?” Ron said in a resigned tone, finally confronting the source of his turmoil in words, even as he faced away from Bakura “This is all a game of chance isn’t it?”

Bakura fidgeted before speaking, “It really isn’t as bad as it sounds. It’s true neither Marik or I have ever done something quite like _this_ before, but it’s not hopeless. But I do know a lot about souls and soul magic on a practical level, and Marik knows a lot about stuff few others do. We do have a plan.”

Ron looked up snorting, “What? It didn’t sound like it downstairs. For two people who apparently play a strategy game, you sure don’t seem to be showing much strategic thinking.”

Bakura ran his fingers through his hair, and gave a ghost of a grin, “Well, maybe we don’t have a fully formed plan as such, but we do have some techniques to give us the advantage in a Shadow Game. And we aren’t quite as deficient in strategy as we seemed downstairs.”

“Oh yeah,” Ron sounded unconvinced, “Like what? What techniques?”

“Well, for one thing, I don’t have to explain _all_ the rules of the Shadow Game to the Horcrux, and given its nature, the likelihood of it cheating or breaking the rules and forfeiting the game is quite possible. As long as I’m vague in explaining to him while setting the rules of the Shadows very rigidly, it could trip up at any time.” Bakura explained softly with a far off expression. He looked quite eerie in the low light of the room.

Ron scowled, “You’re going to be playing chess, I doubt he’ll bother cheating.”

“You’d be surprised,” Bakura said, “And besides, well… Let’s just say it won’t just be a simple game of chess.”

Bakura’s face split open with a sinister grin as he spoke, filling Ron’s heart with ice for an instant as his memories of Godric’s Hollow came to the forefront again before it was gone and Bakura just looked sheepish again.

Ron was quiet, he’d found the board and all the pieces, which were now laying on his lap as he sat next to the bed, head leaning back against it in thought.

“Why didn’t you explain this downstairs?” Ron asked slowly, “You know we probably wouldn’t have been as resistant to the idea then? If we knew it wasn’t as hopeless as you were making it seem.”

“Um, well.” Bakura said, “To be honest, we’re trying to keep the information from Harry.”

“What! Why?” Ron glared, shooting up straight, “Harry deserves to know this isn’t as miserable a mess as you guys made it out to be!”

“I know, I know - But we didn’t want to risk it,” Bakura said, pulling an awkward face.

“Risk what?” Ron asked, watching Bakura’s face carefully.

Bakura sighed, “We don’t really know anything about this Horcrux, or how it works in comparison to Shadow Magic. And where the boundaries between the two lie. We don’t know how aware it is of its surroundings, or if it can pick up on our plans if we mention too much of them around Harry. By making it seem more hopeless than it actually is, we were hoping that if it does pick up on anything, it’ll be something that makes it lower its guard or think it has an advantage over us.”

Ron blinked.

“That… actually seems like a good strategy.” He said begrudgingly. “Although I can’t say I like you messing with our heads like that.”

“Sorry about that,” Bakura said uncomfortably.

“Why tell me at all though?” Ron asked, “It’s not like we get along with each other.”

Bakura shifted uncomfortably, “I know. It’s just, you’re Harry’s friend and I felt bad about putting that stress on you guys. With the way you reacted in the kitchen and all…”

He trailed off.

Ron was quiet for a moment, before standing, chess set in hand.

“We’d better get back to the others.” He said.

Bakura nodded.

As Ron walked past Bakura through the doorway, he was tempted to give the other boy a pat on the shoulder as he passed - in appreciation for letting him know all this. Ron cut that thought off as soon as he realised it existed though. He didn’t think either of them were ready for that sort of casual comradery. He did finally return one of the smiles with a thight-lipped one of his own.

As the two walked back down the corridor in silence Ron spoke again.

“Why only tell me? Why not Hermione?”

Bakura tensed at the unexpected sound before finally replying, “Oh, I just didn’t have the chance, I only got to tell you because you went to get the chess set and I took the opportunity. But you can feel free tell her once the rest of us are in the Shadow Realm, if it’ll help her worry less as well.”

Ron nodded, mulling over his thoughts.

As they entered the old living room they noticed the others had cleared most of the things to the sides of the room, with only a small table and two chairs remaining. Waiting for the chess board to be set up.

Harry was looking slightly green from nerves but was otherwise holding together fine. Hermione was nervously picking at her jumper with a look of aimless determination, wanting to do something but unable to.

In silence, Ron set up the board before explaining to Bakura how to control the Wizarding chess pieces.

With that done, Marik motioned for Harry to take a seat before speaking to the remaining two.

“You guys will have to leave the room now, we’re about to send it into the Shadows.”

Ron nodded sombrely, before taking Hermione’s hand and leaving the room. The two stopping only to hug Harry tightly as he made his way to the seat.

“See you on the other side mate,” Ron said gruffly into Harry’s shoulder.

“You’ll be fine,” Hermione said firmly, with a watery smile as she clutched his arm after releasing from the hug.

.

.

.

After they were gone, Marik nodded to Bakura, who started summoning the Shadows around them in silence. The purple mist oozing around him and growing darker and more enveloping until the entire room was filled with the strange darkness.

Harry shivered. He felt weak. As if he was surrounded by dementors on all sides. It was like his third year all over again. He reached for his wand instinctually wanting to summon his Patronus when the thought hit him.

“Shouldn’t you take my wand off me? If you’re unleashing the Dark Lord it seems like a bad idea to let me hang on to it.” He said, his voice sounded weak and weedy to his own ears, causing him to pull a face in response to the sound.

“Don’t worry about it.” Marik dismissed thoughtlessly as he approached the table, but not elaborating any further.

Harry shivered. It felt like things were watching him all around and just out of sight in the shifting shadows. The way the shadows themselves moved was almost organic  - as if the very mist was alive.

“What now?” He croaked out.

“Now, I’m going to enter your mind,” Marik said, his voice free of emotion. “I’m going to have to forcibly control it so as to push you into your Soul Room and to bring this Dark Lord out.”

Harry shivered in trepidation but nodded, “Let’s get this over with then.”

“Don’t struggle against me when I do this, it’ll only make things more painful for you,” Marik spoke calmly and clearly, the words sounding eerie and threatening as he moved forward and placed a hand on Harry’s forehead.

Harry caught a glimpse of a golden eye shimmering in the darkness on Marik’s own forehead before he felt an icy vicelike grip somewhere deep inside of his mind. Tensing automatically, he felt a sudden surge of pain causing him to choke out a scream before everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, i haven't had much time to write lately so i'm eating up my buffer a bit here - also heads up i'm on holiday for the next week so i'm not going to be doing much writing over that time either probably ^^;


	22. CHAPTER TWENTY TWO: ATEIME - IGNORANCE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry opened his eyes.

Harry opened his eyes.

Pushing himself up, he groaned and looked around in confusion. Everything was quiet and blurry, warm colours. Fumbling around the floor near him for his glasses, he eventually found them and pulled them on, his hands moving to push his glasses back into place on his nose.

What he saw once the room had swum into focus he did not expect.

Where the hell was he?

The last thing he remembered was sitting in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place with Ron and Hermione. Some other people had been there as well… hadn’t they?

Straining his thoughts to try and recall, he found nothing.

It felt as if his mind was in a warm fog, with static filling the blanks in his thoughts with a low, calm hum. It wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling, but the thought that he was forgetting something important was bugging him. The fog seemed to get stronger the more he pushed it.

Shaking his head to try and clear some of it away, he looked around the room he was in trying to take in the details once more, and his eyes widened in surprise as the room suddenly hit him over the head with its familiarity.

The Gryffindor common room?

Standing up in shock, his head spinning at the fast motion, he slowly rotated around, taking it all in.

No…

Something was off.

For one thing, the common room had never been this… _cluttered_ , and looking closely at one of the largest moving pictures on the wall, one that he knew was a stuffy old king back at Hogwarts, was a large, crowded picture of his family. Exactly the way he’d seen them in the Mirror of Erised in his first year, all gathering around and smiling down at him.

Taking a step back, he slowly tore his eyes away from the painting, bringing them to rest on the fireplace. Moving forward he reached forward to touch the carved mantle, running his hand over the design of a large black dog, carved with great care,  that seemed to follow a story along the large edge.

One side showed a happy dog playing with what seemed to be Harry himself, as well as a variety of other animals, dancing through the carved wood.

The Marauders, his foggy mind supplied.

As the design progressed along however, the dog became more grim and alone. On either end of the mantle, there was a carved dog’s head jutting out, furthering the story told in the design, one filled with joy and the other with anguish.

Dropping his hand down, Harry lowered his gaze, blinking away distant tears.

“What is this place?” He murmured.

Making his way instinctually over to his usual, and favourite seat in the common room he sat down heavily and tried to think.

“Think, Harry.” He muttered to himself, “What happened before you woke up here?”

Gripping his hair, he massaged his scalp, trying to force the static in his mind back.

“I… remember there was something happening,” Harry mused out loud, eyes wandering to the small table beside him.

A cold cup of tea sat there, the pattern around the rim reminded him of the set at Privet Drive.

Shaking his head he rubbed his forehead in thought, his hand touching the ridge of his scar.

“Wait! That’s it!” Harry said, “It had to do with my scar, there was something important I had to do!”

 Standing up and looking around the room for some clue as to what he was supposed to do, he felt a sudden draft of cold air in the otherwise comfortably warm, red and gold room.

Looking in the direction of the slight breeze, he saw a huge pile of boxes, toys, and other seemingly rubbish piled in front of what would usually be the common room entrance. He moved towards the barricade slowly, and from deep behind the clog of strange childhood artefacts he had no memory of, he could see a dark green light pulsing in time with his own heartbeat.

Reaching forward, he grasped the leg of what seemed to be a large crib, sticking out of the solidly packed plug. Carefully, he pulled at it, trying to dislodge it from the pile.

It didn’t move.

Harry frowned, he somehow _knew_ that whatever it was he was supposed to do was related to what was behind that barricade. He just had to get through to it.

Grasping it again, Harry put all his strength into it, and was rewarded with the pile shifting slightly as the crib was loosened by a few inches.

Invigorated with his success, Harry kept going, slowly managing to pull items out of the wall.

A toy broom.

Box after box of strangely familiar smelling baby clothes.

A rocking horse.

A large stuffed toy stag.

He kept going, until finally he could see where the entrance to the common room should have been.

Down slightly, where the steps leading to the back of the Fat Lady would usually start, in the wall, was a large jagged fracture. Like a lightning bolt, ripping through the wall. The shape looked exactly like his scar, he realised with discomfort.

There was a difference though… Dark, poisonous-looking black veins crawled out from the edges and seemed to suck the red colour from the walls, leaving a sickly off-white surrounding them.

Inside the fracture, waves of pulsing green light came forth with every heartbeat in Harry’s chest. Harry could feel the blood rushing in his ears.

 The crack seemed to fill the whole room with a pale green tinge, leaking into the common room like some vile infection, and eating away at the warmth of the firelight.

Staring into the dark fracture, beyond the green, all Harry could see was black. He couldn’t look away; it felt as if some external force was forcing him towards the dark fissure.

As he reached forward, not even realising his arm had moved, he could see movement deep in the black. Swirls and waves of things he could barely comprehend.

He stepped forward, mesmerized.

Something at the back of his mind felt wrong about this.

He lifted his foot once more.

Something was off.

He took another step forward.

A small part of his mind was screaming something important.

But it felt so distant, so deeply lost in the fog of his thoughts. The only point of clarity was the scar before him…

His foot hooked on the toy broom, tripping him forward. His eyes shot away from the fissure for an instant and suddenly the screaming in his mind became all too clear.

_He had to stay away from the opening! Bakura_ – _that was the guy’s name_ – _he had told Harry that whatever happened, he had to avoid touching the opening!_

_Avoid the opening!_

_All you need to do is not go near it._

_And whatever you do don't touch it._

_Don’t touch it!_

Harry’s mind screamed at him as he tumbled forward, desperately trying to regain his balance.

Harry’s hand shot forward on instinct to brace himself, and it came into contact with the wall on the side of the fracture.

He refused to look up, knowing that the hypnotic void was right in front of him.

Closing his eyes, he slowly rotated his head away from the swirling void. He could feel the beating of the wall beneath his hand.

It felt like a dying animal.

Its heartbeat erratically pulsing and giving off a faint heat that felt more like a fever than any healthy warmth.

Facing away, he took a breath and pulled his hand from the wall.

At least, he tried to.

Closing his eyes again as his stomach pooled with dread, Harry slowly turned back towards his hand, and peaked at it through the corner of his eye.

What he saw stopped him cold. His breathing hitched and his mouth went dry.

The black veins from the wall surrounding the scar in the wall had crawled over Harry’s hand, and were swirling slowly up and around his wrist and up into his arm with each pulse.

His stomach lurched as he was viscerally reminded of the way Dumbledore’s arm had looked shortly before his death.

He tried to pull away again, his blood rushing in his ears as he braced himself against the floor and pulled. But the more he struggled to escape, the quicker the veins spread and thickened up his arm. Moving in time with his increasing heart rate as it consumed more of his arm.

He forced his breathing to slow. Tried to relax his racing heart. After a few minutes of slow and steady breathing, the veins slowed their progression as well.

There was only one thing he was certain of at this moment he realised after he fruitlessly tried to think of some way to escape his situation.

He was stuck.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter!
> 
> Thank you so much to DarthTofu for helping me out by beta reading - I'm super grateful!


	23. CHAPTER TWENTY THREE: NEB IRT KHET – LORD OF RITUAL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry opened his eyes.

Harry opened his eyes.

Ryou watched quietly, trying to keep his breathing steady as a thick, poisonous wave of energy started to leak into the Shadows engulfing the room, with Harry as the clear origin. Knowing the source and the reason made it easier than it had been before, he realised. He hadn’t been able to defend himself against something he didn’t know was causing him harm. Now, in this controlled situation, he realised how much of a difference that made.

It still wasn’t pleasant, far from it – it settled over him like a slimy layer of toxic waste, making him feel agitated and grimy and sick.

Digging his nails into his palms hard to distract from that feeling, he watched from off to the side as Marik took a deliberate step back with his face immobile. Marik, his breathing deliberately even, looked unflinchingly into dark, red eyes where there previously had been green. 

“The… Dark Lord, I presume?” Marik said, keeping his voice even, despite the strain of the Shadow Realm and the… thing before him.

Ryou was amazed at how well Marik was handling it, for his first direct exposure to a Horcrux like this. Ryou letting him know what to expect and the extra support of having them both here seemed to have worked. He knew he was grateful Marik was here. He didn’t know if he could have gone through with this alone.

Harry’s face twisted in what could have been called a smile, if one had only read about the mechanics of facial muscles in a book before that point.

Ryou suppressed a shudder. Everything about Harry looked and felt wrong.

“Indeed. And you are?” The Dark Lord said, his voice was pitched higher than Harry’s was. It radiated danger and a predatory nature with every measured word. His eyes were not focused on Marik or Bakura, choosing instead to look at his hands in an offhand dismissal of the two Shadow Mages as he slowly flexed them, looking mildly fascinated at the movements of the skin over tendons on Harry's flesh. He appeared seemingly unbothered by his surroundings.

Ryou stepped forward, into the Dark Lords direct line of sight, forcing him to focus on him, and spoke with a confidence he didn’t feel, “We are here to challenge you to a Shadow Game.”

He managed to keep his tone steady, and felt an edge of darkness forming around him after he had spoken. His fear was still there, but an air of excitement and control swirled in the Shadows around him, he could hear the low consuming whispers of creatures hidden from view buzzing in his ears, telling him to destroy this stain and to restore the Balance.

_…Kill it…_

No, not yet.

He steadied himself. Pushed down the giddy wrath of the Shadows around him.

He resisted the small shudder that wanted to run through him, as he focused on pushing the whispers out of focus.

He could do this, he had the advantage over this opponent. He was controlling the situation.

Just as he liked it.

It was just like being a Game Master.

Rolling his shoulders, the man wearing Harry’s skin stood up and tilted his head lightly towards Bakura.

“A… what now?” He questioned mockingly. There was no trace of actual questioning in those acidic eyes. Just seeming disinterest. The not-smile returned, “Why would I agree such a thing?”

Ryou and Marik exchanged a small look. It may be that the Horcrux hadn't been aware within Harry. Or at least, it wasn’t giving any obvious indication thereof. They couldn’t trust that it wasn’t trying to deceive them in some way, not with its much-too-casual behaviour. It was clearly hiding _something_ at least. Not that it would matter either way once the game started.

“Simple.” Ryou spoke softly, his words as innocent as they could be while being carried by the swirling Shadows consumed with vengeance, “If you succeed in defeating me in a simple game of chess,” he motioned towards the board in the centre of the swirling room with a simple gesture of his hand, “You can have the body you now possess. Permanently.”

“I already have Potter’s body at this point, thanks to your interference, I assume. Why should I waste my time playing with children when I clearly already have what I need?” not-Harry’s voice drawled in derision.

“Well, you can hardly leave this place with it, now can you?” Marik drawled back.

The Dark Lord looked around the Shadow drenched room, as if just noticing for the first time where he was.

“What is this place?” He asked, his voice soft and curious.

“The Shadow Realm. We can only leave once someone has won a Shadow Game.” Marik lied easily. As long as the game hadn’t been started, the two mages could still leave at will.

They also weren’t going to offer more incentive than necessary to start the game. They had to keep their advantage.

A flash of rage passed over Harry’s features, causing them to twist into something truly evil looking, before passing as quickly as it had come. Ryou tensed and felt renewed vigilance at the situation, but made no move to acknowledge the wave of choking rot he’d felt in his soul during that moment. He shot a glance towards Malik, wondering if he’d been having the same problems around this... person just then, but saw Malik standing stoically, eyes half closed and breathing slowly and calmly. If he was having problems, he wasn’t advertising them.

“Well then. I suppose I must oblige you,” The Dark Lord drawled after the terse moment, motioning to the chess board with a dismissive and jerking motion of his arm. “Remind me, which of you… children shall I be facing?”

Ignoring the slight, Ryou moved towards the opposite chair, mind whirring. Voldemort hadn’t even asked what would happen if he lost; either he didn’t care, and didn’t expect to lose, or he already knew, meaning he _had_ been listening in. He hoped for the former, overconfidence was easy to exploit, it may even mean he was planning on cheating early on. That would make things easier.

Glancing up from under his hair at the Dark Lord, Ryou said softly, “White has the first move.”

“Letting your opponent have the first move, hmm?” He said with condescension.

“What can I say, I like to see what I’m getting in to,” Ryou shot back with some dark humour. Ignoring the hammering in his chest.

“Hmm…” The Dark Lord mocked as he looked at the board, “Knight to F-3.”

A solid opening move, Ryou thought as the piece moved itself into place, one Ryou might have used if he’d started. He felt a tingle of worry bubbling up inside, he wondered how good his opponent really was at this game.

“I’ll move my pawn to D-5,” He drawled back, trying to display an air of confidence.

“Pawn to D-4,” The Dark Lord spoke mockingly, and the piece moved forward to face Ryou’s.

“Can’t think of moves for yourself?” Ryou snorted in derision, deliberately dismissing the tactical reasons Voldemort might have made that choice with his words. “Seriously, if you copy all my moves we’ll be here all day. King to D-7.”

A wave of choking anger radiated off Harry’s body at Ryou’s comment. And from his watchful position behind Voldemort, Marik shot Ryou a quick glance, before breathing deeply as he hopefully realised what part of the plan Ryou had started on.

It was earlier than they had originally planned though. Ryou hadn’t expected to need to start as quickly as he had.

As awful as it felt to him, the angrier he got his opponent, the more likely he was to lose track of his game or cheat. Ryou knew Marik understood that. He could feel a bead of sweat trail down his back. This wasn’t an uncommon strategy for either of them, and he braced himself for what might come.

And Ryou was starting to realise making his opponent angry might be his only chance, as he held himself deliberately still as he watched Voldemort’s next strategic move, dread pooling in his gut.

 

.

.

.

 

Marik looked at the two players, tamping down his trepidation. The Shadow Realm had never seemed to have the same negative effect on Bakura as it did on others throughout the time Marik had known him he mused. Most people could only last physically in the Shadows for maybe an hour at most before it depleted them of all their energy. But Bakura had survived in them for days before, and had shown back up hungry and under some rubble, with no other ill effects apparently.

That unusual endurance to the Shadows was one of their greatest assets in this Game, the more Bakura drew out the game the more his opponent would be affected as well.

However, on the other side of the equation, Marik couldn’t help but notice how much more strongly Bakura reacted to the foul magic permeating the surroundings and the very air leaking off the Dark Lord.

He wondered if it had to do with how much closer Bakura’s connection to the Shadows was – he could withstand the magic of the Shadows easier than most, but he also seemed to suffer the same weaknesses to a larger extent than most other Shadow Users.

Bakura took the first piece, a move later. And while Voldemort didn’t react at all physically, another toxic wave oozed off him. It barely seemed to faze Marik anymore, if anything it was becoming almost intoxicating, feeling the poisonous emotions coursing over him.

“Looks like you’re not as good as you thought you were,” Bakura smirked as the piece was dragged from the board.

Harry’s face remained immobile as a slow hiss forced its way out between his teeth, “Have you ever played the game before, you _child_? Sacrificing pawns is what they’re _there_ for after all.”

The man wearing Harry’s face forced himself to relax, causing Marik to realise just how forced the lack of any movements were from him.

Voldemort started to chuckle.

“This game will be over sooner than I even realised,” he sneered, “You clearly lack any true comprehension of the _games_ you play.”

The wave of toxicity was different this time. Somehow slicker in the face of his incensed confidence.

Marik felt his breath hitch as Bakura opened his mouth to respond, only to stumble over whatever he was about to say as the new rot seemed to pierce through his mask for an instant. He closed his eyes and drew a sharp breath, before pulling himself back and forcing a look of disinterested disbelief on his face.

The Dark Lord laughed at the slip-up.

High and unpleasant.

“It looks like you truly are the one to underestimate the situation you’ve found yourself in. Do _children_ truthfully think they can win against me?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time a child’s beaten you,” Bakura managed to force out, keeping his expression barely even.

The force of the rage that comment caused almost knocked Marik off his feet. He felt a shrieking hum in his ears and gasped silently.

After he finished blinking the black spots out of his eyes, he quickly looked over to Bakura.

He had turned so pale he looked like a corpse. As if all blood flow in his body had been completely cut off. He looked dizzy and faint, and eyes yes looked glazed. Marik felt dread start to grow inside him. If Bakura passed out, he would lose the game.

And he looked about five seconds away from doing just that.

This…

This was starting to get too close.

Pulling his eyes away from Bakura’s slightly glassy face, he looked over to the source of the pain.

Voldemort hadn’t moved.

He hadn’t spoken a word.

But Harry’s face was twisted into a horrible expression of fury. A look, Marik realised with discomfort, which he had once recognised in the mirror when he had thought of the Pharaoh. He couldn’t suppress the shudder. Had he really once been that full of anger? That was a… sobering thought. 

The deep, angry lines of his anger were carved deeper still by the harsh shadows caused due to the lack of light surrounding them.

“You know nothing of what you speak,” came the words, finally. Spoken so slowly and with such deliberation that they seemed to suck out any surrounding sounds like a singularity. The rage in those words eclipsing everything.

Shaking slightly, Bakura looked away, unable to face what was being felt.

Without another word, Voldemort made his move.

Marik glanced at the board and he felt his panic rise further. Bakura clearly wasn’t on top of his game right now. Had they bitten off more than they could handle?

Silently, Bakura picked up his next chess piece rather than directing it to its place. Marik felt his alarm grow. Bakura clearly didn’t trust himself to speak out loud yet.

This… wasn’t good.

Bakura lost his knight a few near-silent moves later. The silence was clearly against their plans, but judging by how hard Bakura was gripping his leg under the table, he was focusing on holding himself together.

Voldemort lazily smiled as the next destroyed piece was dragged from the board. Clearly confident and unconcerned.

There was a sudden sound of laughter. 

Marik and Voldemort both turned to the sound.

Bakura was staring at the board with a smug smile tugging at his lips.

“What are you smiling about now, child?” the Dark Lord snapped, eyes narrowing. From his view behind Voldemort, Marik could see the back of his head was slick with sweat. Clearly straining from the already lengthy stay in the Shadow Realm.

Bakura broke out into a full out grin, showing his teeth, “Oh no, if you honestly can’t see what you’ve done now, I’m not going to be telling you.”

There was another hissed response. Harry’s body shifted, a hand tapping on the table as he studied the board.

It seemed like he was growing more irritated in the face of Bakura’s sudden burst of confidence.

Marik wondered what move the Dark Lord had made to give Bakura some sort of opening.

The game resumed for another few moves, Bakura smirking and cackling under his breath more with each move, and refusing to elaborate. His opponent was becoming more and more frustrated, movements jerkier than even before.

The tap-tapping of his fingers on the table echoing deep into the shadows.

Marik, had started wandering around the room, both to distract himself from the manic feeling building under his ribs as the Dark Lord started to slip more and more, and the light-headedness that the Shadow Realm was starting to cause him as well.

He moved over to the table to glance down at the game in curiosity.

“Oh, I see!” Marik gave a soft exclamation of realisation after looking at the board for a few moments, heart racing.

Looking up from the board and over to Bakura he snorted, “You’re just playing with him at this point. Why are you prolonging this? I have better things to do than waiting around here all day.”

Harry’s possessed hand clenched involuntarily, before moving it out of sight under the table. He didn’t say a word however, and after a moment Voldemort leaned back slightly, looking straight at Bakura with a completely relaxed air. Undercut by the sweat drenching his borrowed face.

“This has been an indulgent waste of time but I do not lose,” he sneered in condescension.

Bakura smirked, meeting the Dark Lord’s eyes, “And yet somehow, that’s exactly what you seem to be doing.”

 

.

.

.

 

There was silence in the room, the only thing Ryou could hear was the whispering of the Shadows in his ear as he looked at Voldemort with condescension. Legs trembling under the table out of sight were the only external sign he wasn’t hanging on as well as he’d hoped.

Suddenly the whispering grew louder and louder.

Ryou winced, but couldn’t avert his gaze.

The whispering stopped.

He felt a ripping pain through his head that seemed to consume him in an instance. The white-hot pain shot through him and he gasped, as quick images from his past flashed before him before his most recent thoughts repeated themselves. Struggling to focus, he tried to move his thoughts to where he wanted them.

With a small gasp, he fell forward and braced against the small table, breathing heavily.

“Well, well, well…”  came the soft high voice, words trailing off mockingly, “looks like someone was bluffing with an empty hand.”

A high laughter pierced the room as Voldemort motioned his piece into place, Harry’s face pulled into a manic expression as sweat dripped down his temple.

“Check,” he said, abruptly cutting off his own laughter, “And next move it will be checkmate. Why don’t you just give up now and spare us both the time.”

Ryou shivered violently, the pain still leaving him. But that didn’t matter anymore.

He laughed back. Mockingly.

“You’re right, I was bluffing.” He tossed his head back, “And you couldn’t figure out how close you were to winning without resorting to invading your opponent’s mind.”

Voldemort snorted, “What does it matter? I’ve won.”

Ryou gave a click of his fingers, and the Shadows swirled closer.

“No. You’ve forfeited.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! the actual game! Finally!   
> I've been sick (while working an unexpected 7-day week) so it took me longer to post this than I wanted to. :'D  
> All comments are appreciated! :D


	24. CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR: WEB – PURIFY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Penalty Game.”

“What are you—”

 

That was all Voldemort got out before Ryou stood, forehead glowing.

 

Reaching across the board, he lightly plucked up the white king from its position in front of the Dark Lord and grinned a feral grin. His heart raced with a dark excitement that seemed to bleed from the inside out.

 

“Penalty Game.”

 

The light swirled through the Shadows and a high screech of pain echoed through the room, before Harry ’s body slumped forward over the table, scattering the rest of the board across the floor.

 

The king glowed for an instant before returning to dull ivory.

 

Ryou breathed deeply and felt a low laughter start to bubble out of him, growing louder as he felt something inside him slip.

 

“Bakura!” The sharp voice pierced through the fog in his mind. There was an urgent note in Marik’s voice that he struggled to focus on.

 

“What is it?” He got out, harsher than intended, trying to pull his mind together. Pulling who he _was_ together.

 

He looked over towards Marik, who was standing over Harry’s body in concern, even with the exhaustion and pain evident in his own face now that there was no need to keep up appearances.

 

They had been in the Shadows for longer than most could take at this point.

 

“Something went wrong! I think you tore part of Potter’s soul out when you sealed that thing!” Marik said urgently, hand brushing over Harry’s forehead.

 

That sobered Ryou’s mind instantly.

 

“What? How could— I didn’t—” He moved forward and around the table to Harry’s side, hand still clutching the king he’d sealed Voldemort’s soul into.

 

“It doesn’t matter!” Marik said, he sounded seriously shaken, “If we don’t plug the hole somehow right _now_ we’ll be left with a fucking _husk_ to take back to his friends.

 

Jerking forward, Ryou pulled Harry’s body upright into his seat and grabbed his face in his hands. Harry flopped limply against him, and Ryou could feel a stream of _Ka_ gushing out of a gaping wound in his soul.

 

Not good. Not good at all.

 

“What do we do?” He asked numbly, his already pale face going sheet white, mind unable to grab focus.

 

“I just said!” Marik snapped, “We need to plug it! And quickly!”

 

“How?” Ryou retorted, nerves unravelling, “This isn’t exactly something I’ve ever seen before!”

 

Marik took a deep shaking breath, clearly trying to think of something that would help from his studies.

 

“We can… use the Shadows to create a plug of some kind to stop his _Ka_ bleeding out. Try to bind his soul to fuse the wound shut. We can use his Shadow if necessary.”

 

Ryou stared in shock, mind wiped blank by what Marik had said, before answering, “That’s too dangerous! Would that even work in this situation? Blending his _Ka_ with… with… _Sheut_? We don’t know how that could affect him –  if he’ll even still be human! People who have their _Ka_ and _Sheut_ combined _don’t_ come out of it human!”

 

“Yes okay! We don’t know what might happen, you’re right!” Marik responded in frustration, “But, well it’s either that or dead at this point – unless _you_ have a better idea. I think it’s worth taking the risk! It won’t be any sort of full soul fusion anyway, we aren’t going to actually _blend_ them, I don’t think it’s at that point yet – I think we can get away with just kind of merging the edges together to close it. Like a bandage or a scab – just _something_ until the bleeding stops. We aren’t going to turn him into a Shadow Monster – it’s just enough to stop the bleed! We can separate it and sort out any other problems later, but we can only do that if he’s still alive!”

 

Ryou shut his eyes tightly and he swore mentally as he focused on Harry’s limp, ashen body.

 

“Okay, fine.”

 

.

.

.

 

Harry had felt a blazing pain tear through his arm as the green scar before him was ripped away suddenly, dragging what looked like a stream of deep red blood-like magic from where his arm had connected to the wall.

 

He blacked out from the pain for what could have been a second or a decade for all he knew, but when he regained his vision as the black spots faded he saw an unending void before him.

 

Where before there had just been the green crack, there was now a swirling emptiness that was dragging a spiral of red and silver light from him. He struggled backward, away from the hole, but the stream kept pulling away from him into the vacuum, like blood in water as it spread and grew and then dissipated into nothing.

 

His breath felt shallow as he fell back to his knees, unable to move. He felt frozen. This feeling, it was like he was being pulled under water. Both drowning and feeling emptiness consume him.

 

It felt like a Dementor’s kiss…

 

He shivered and wished he could summon his Patronus to help him.

 

His Stag.

 

As he watched with bank eyes as the red and silver was being ripped from him. He vaguely noticed that the silver was the exact same shade as his Patronus.

 

He closed his eyes.

 

He felt so tired.

 

He just wanted to sleep.

 

Sleep…

 

…

 

Harry felt a sudden rush pushing towards him, and he irrationally felt annoyance at whatever was interrupting his rest for a sluggish moment. He pulled open his eyes with horrific difficulty and saw a raging storm of purple and black shadows pushing themselves through the hole, blocking it closed with a solidity it didn’t seem like it should possess. Winding around the wound like a net, and almost sewing itself in place.

 

Struggling up onto his feet with great difficulty, his glasses had slipped down his face and he pushed them up with his only able hand as he watched as the churning red and silver inverted its direction, blending in with the swirling black and purple as it went.

 

He gasped as the purple came into contact with him, spiralling towards him with the last of the silver strands. He felt something moving next to him, he looked up.

 

He could see it.

 

His Patronus was finally here. He was flooded with relief.

 

It was… different to how it usually looked though, Harry realised distantly.

 

Deep, moving stripes of dark purple flowed through it and around it, starkly dark against the bright silver. Its eyes glowed an acid green colour.

 

The stag moved forward towards Harry, lowering its head to greet him.

 

Not even needing to think about it, Harry reached forward to touch the outreaching stag in return.

 

He made contact with the side of its broad face, hand sliding over the surprisingly soft fur. It looked as if it should feel more bristly, he thought to himself, but it felt so gentle on his hands. Comforting and familiar, like a well-worn shirt or a warm blanket.

 

He had never been able to touch it before. Could you even touch a Patronus? He wondered blankly.

 

No.

 

Not like this, not anything like this.

 

This wasn’t just the light of a spell, this was solid.

 

Real.

 

Was any of this even real? The thought struck him suddenly, everything about this situation was so completely strange and dreamlike. Was he even awake right now?

 

He rubbed his hands through the warm fur and moved in closer, pushing his face into the creature’s neck. He could feel its heart beating in time with his own as he clung to the stag, the warm pelt rising and falling with each breath they took. He would have thought the large creature would have had a slower heartbeat, but it matched his own perfectly.

 

The room exploded with light.

 

And he woke up.

 

.

.

.

 

Ryou and Marik both let go of a breath they hadn’t realised they’d even been holding when they saw Harry’s eyes open blearily.

 

“What’s going on?” Harry mumbled groggily.

 

He looked normal, there didn’t seem to be any unwanted side-effects. At least not anything physical or immediate. Ryou released the Shadows around them in relief. The most immediate crisis was over.

 

Slowly the room faded back into view as the Shadows fled the room to Ryou’s will.

 

Marik gave a weak chuckle, and shoved Ryou lightly, “I can’t believe how easy you went on that criminal of a ghost you challenged back in that game.”

 

Ryou blinked at the sudden change of topic but realised it kind of made sense now that the latest danger had passed.

 

To not have to think about how close to killing Harry they had come. If Marik wanted to avoid thinking about it right now Ryou wasn’t going to push it. He didn’t really want to think about it much either.

 

“What do you mean? I think I got into his head pretty well, at least near the end there.” Ryou shakily laughed back.

 

“Sure, maybe.” Marik drawled out unevenly, “But if it was me I would’ve made the game more interesting.”

 

“Yeah, how?” Ryou asked, both of them stumbling away from Harry as his frantic friends rushed in through the open door, clearly having realised the Game was over once the Shadows had dissipated from the doorway, and moved towards their friend. Ryou and Marik moved out of their way quickly.

 

“I would’ve made it so every time a player loses a chess piece they feel the pain of loss. It would’ve made a good lesson for someone like him I think.” Marik said mater of fact, as the two of them moved away from the reunited trio and to the solidity of the far wall. Ryou leaned against its stability gratefully.

 

Ron and Hermione were helping Harry up, he noticed vaguely from across the room, anxiously asking him if he was okay as Harry gave a bleary incomprehensible answer that seemed reasonably positive at least.

 

“How would it have been a good lesson?” Ryou asked. This conversation was calming them both he realised, he could still feel the pain and darkness inside eating at him, and the panic and fear from afterwards still much too close to the surface, but it seemed to become smothered under their exhaustion and their aimless discussion.

 

“Well, he’s a leader, right? And not one that apparently cares very much about his minions from what I understand from my time here -”

 

“Reminds me of another leader I know.” Ryou went with the cheap shot. No filter, exhaustion was making him meaner than he’d like. There was no malice in his tone, but he still felt uncomfortable the moment the words left his mouth.

 

Marik stuck his tongue out and chuckled, seemingly unconcerned to Ryou’s relief. He clearly didn’t take the comment too seriously, “Anyway! I just think it would have been fitting to have a leader feel the pain of his soldiers, seeing how quick he was to sacrifice his pawns. Both in real life and in the game from what we saw.”

 

Ryou paused. There was more to what Marik was saying there… it sounded self-effacing somehow, but now probably wasn’t the time for digging into that. He didn’t want to open old wounds unnecessarily, especially right now.

 

“You… have a point.” Ryou conceded reluctantly, “That would have been a good idea.”

 

“Told you,” Marik said, exhaustion undercutting any real attempt at smugness.

 

“You should have brought it up sooner then,” Ryou shot back, with no real passion behind his words either, before adding on, his expression pained, “It probably wouldn’t have been a good idea to though;  I don’t know if I could have handled that myself on top of everything else.”

 

Marik opened his mouth to retort, before closing it again and nodding heavily.

 

“Okay, yeah, that’s true,” Marik replied after a moment.

 

Ryou suddenly became aware of the three others in the room again. They were moving towards the two of them, Harry being supported between his two friends.

 

“Did everything go alright?” Hermione asked anxiously, “Is Harry supposed to be so… muddled?”

 

She looked over at the dazed-looking Harry anxiously. He looked pretty shaky on his feet and his eyes didn’t seem to be focusing quite right.

 

“Muddled is getting off lightly after all that,” Marik said candidly, lines under his eyes deepening as he held back some other expression.

 

Hermione flinched at those words and she looked nervously over at Ron.

 

“Is he going to be okay?” Ron asked, his tone leaving no acceptance for a negative answer.

 

Ryou leaned his head back against the wall and sighed in exhaustion.

 

“I can’t say for sure yet. Things got… messy.” Ryou started.

 

“Messy? How!” Ron demanded in alarm, glancing back at Harry in concern.

 

“It’s too complicated to really explain right now,” Ryou said, brushing his hand through his hair anxiously.

 

“Just give it a few days and he should be fine. He probably shouldn’t do any magic during that time either just to be safe honestly,” Marik muttered, “He’s lucky.”

 

“We’ll probably have to keep an eye on him for the next few weeks as well,” Ryou added, “Just to make sure there aren’t any long-term effects.”

 

Hermione took a deep breath, “And Vo-You-Know-Who?”

 

Ryou blinked and looked down at his hand. He was still clutching the white king in his fist.

 

In his panic, he’d almost completely forgotten he still had it. He felt the faint hum of wrongness emanating from the small object. Maybe it was because he had been the one to reseal the soul, but it didn’t feel nearly as awful as it had before though.

 

He reached his arm forward and dropped the chess piece lightly into Hermione’s outstretched hand.

 

“Here he is.”

 

Hermione froze in shock, staring at the unassuming item in her hand.

 

“Oh!” she said in realisation.

 

“We’ll take care of it tomorrow. I think I need to go sleep for the rest of the day… and night. Maybe longer,” Marik said with a groan as he pushed himself back off the wall.

 

Actually looking at him, Hermione face quickly changed, and showed evident realisation of just how exhausted they were. On the one hand, she clearly wanted the Horcrux in her hand gone, on the other, her expression spoke of a sympathy known from unfortunate experience that pushing beyond your limits never ended well.  

 

“Of course.” She said, cutting Ron off before he could say anything, either in agreement or in contrary, “We’ll take Harry to his room as well and keep an eye on him.”

 

Ryou nodded heavily, eyes struggling to stay open.

 

Rest would be good for all of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter and the end of the game! Harry could be doing better right now, but who knows where this new complication will lead later on?


	25. CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE:  SHU – FREE/EMPTY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They didn’t actually end up getting anything much done until three days later...

They didn’t actually end up getting anything much done until three days later. Bakura and Marik were still sluggish, but otherwise mostly recovered from whatever had gone down during the Shadow Game, if standoffish and otherwise unwilling to socialise for very long with the others.

Harry on the other hand, had bounced back surprisingly quickly, and was insisting he was fine to his anxiously hovering friends by dinnertime the same day as the Game.

Harry felt good.

Really good actually, he thought to himself as he lay on his bed a few nights later, rolling the Snitch Dumbledore had left him around in his hand, letting it escape and buzz around his room as he watched it glint gold.

It was as if a chronic pain he’d learnt to ignore his whole life had been lifted from him and suddenly things he’d never known he was struggling with before felt easy. Even without using magic – and he hadn’t used any since the Game had happened, as he’d been instructed. He was still concerned about what exactly had happened inside his mind, they had told him not to touch anything inside that room before everything had happened and… he had. He shivered at the memory.

It had almost killed him.

He was sure of that.

Neither Bakura nor Marik had brought it up though, so while his thoughts would drift to the silver and purple stag he’d seen and he was sure he had physically _felt_ inside his mind, he decided it best not to bring it up just yet.

 

It was probably just a weird dream.

 

Dreams… that was another thing. Not once had he been woken by stray visions and blinding pain in the last two nights. No more Voldemort having a backdoor into his mind.

He still had mixed feelings about that, but the absolute freedom he felt in his own head – that he’s never known he was missing – made him think it was worthwhile.

The absolute peace a full night’s sleep gave was something he hadn’t realised he craved. No wonder Ron loved sleeping so much! If this was what actual rest felt like, well! He wasn’t complaining! 

Hermione had left the White King on the table in the room where the Game had taken place, and no one had entered it since while the two mages recovered from… being exposed to the tainted Shadows? The trial of the game itself?

Something to do with their strange magic anyway.

He wasn’t honestly sure.

Their whole business still didn’t make much sense to him, although Hermione seemed to be learning a lot from Marik – she had been constantly dragging him off to answer more questions or to get clarification on something he’d told her. That was before the Game had happened and the two Mages had decided to act like ghosts while they recovered though.

Watching the snitch twirl around the room as he drifted off, he couldn’t help but wonder for the first time in a while now why Dumbledore had left it for him. He’d been distracted lately, what with everything else, and hadn’t really thought of it that much.

 

 _I open at the close_ …

 

What did it _mean_? What could be hidden inside? Because there had to be something – Dumbledore wouldn’t have gone to such trouble otherwise. It had to be something important.

He sighed, still another mystery to be solved. Plucking the snitch out of the air as it fluttered overhead, he carefully tucked it away before rolling over to go to sleep.

 

.

.

.

 

The next morning dawned busily for Grimmauld Place.

The trio had to focus on their next concern, excluding the Horcrux down the hall of course. They needed to find the last two of them.

As it was, the three of them were at the kitchen table, as had become the usual state of affairs, with Kreacher happily pattering around making them breakfast.

Hermione had a quill in hand and had written out a short list on a scrap of parchment; ~~~~

_List of Horcruxes:_

_Riddle’s diary – Destroyed by Basilisk fang_

_The Gaunt’s ring – Destroyed by Gryffindor’s Sword_

_Slytherin’s locket – Destroyed by Shadow Magic_

_Nagini – Destroyed by Shadow Magic_

_The chess piece_

_Something of Helga Hufflepuff’s_

_Something of Rowena Ravenclaw’s_

“We need to plan our next move.” She said, tapping her quill on the parchment, “I admit we’ve done surprisingly well considering how little we had to work off from the start, and we’re so close now! We just have two more to go!”

Ron nodded with enthusiasm, “I’m feeling good about this – even with that evil bastard that was camping out in Harry’s head still trapped down the hall. Can’t say I’ll be sorry when that’s gone as well. But we just need to come up with ideas about where to look next for the last two.”

“Where would Vold-er…” Harry paused at the near slip as a thought struck him, just as he cut himself off from finishing the name.

He was so used to calling Voldemort by that name for so many years, that not doing so kept tripping him up. And Marik was right, saying You-Know-Who all the time was a mouthful. And it did sound rather… ridiculous. But he just realised something. Maybe he couldn’t say Voldemort’s name anymore, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t say _Tom’s_ name.

“Where would… _Tom_ have hidden them? So far it seems he’s just hidden them in places that hold significance to him. Where else do we know that could apply?” Harry mused.

“Tom?” Ron barked out a laugh in surprise, “That’s great! Why didn’t we think of calling him that before?”

“Calling him by his rejected name, “Hermione shook her head lightly, “That makes perfect sense honestly, since he _has_ made it nearly impossible for anyone to call him by his chosen name. Why _didn’t_ we think of that?”

“But we’re getting off topic,” She added into the light and cosy atmosphere of the warm and busy kitchen, “Places that hold significance to… _Tom_. Hmm.”

“Well there’s Hogwarts.” Ron said, “I know it’s a bit obvious to say but y’know.” He shrugged.

Hermione nodded towards him with an encouraging smile and wrote that down on the parchment.

Harry thought for a moment, “The orphanage or Riddle Manor? Although we already found ones with some connection to either place, there may be more hidden at the direct locations that were missed?”

She added those with another nod.

“Somewhere in Diagon Alley maybe?” Hermione murmured to the group as she wrote it down, “Maybe Knockturn Alley – Borgin and Burkes?”

 

“Hogsmead maybe?” Ron added with another shrug.

 

“What are you lot talking about?” came a voice from the doorway.

 

Looking up, the three saw Bakura and Marik enter the room, still looking rather worn out around the edges. The two made their way to the table as well and plopped down unceremoniously, gratefully taking their plates from Kreacher.

 

“We’re coming up with ideas for our next plan,” Ron said, refilling his own plate as Kreacher placed another plater on the table.

 

“For what?” Bakura yawned blearily.

 

“Where the last two Horcruxes may be.” Hermione spoke up, “We’ve made a list of the ones we’ve taken care of and such – but from the information we were given there’s still supposed to be two more.”

.

.

.

 

Ryou blinked and peered at the parchment, trying to read it upside down for a moment before Hermione took pity on him and flipped it around to face him. He looked over the list slowly, before catching his eyes on Diagon Alley. He felt a stab of pain at the memory of his lack of control, and the way he’d been so quick and willing to kill and steal. The very thought of the Ally and how he’d acted made him want to shred himself to tiny pieces until the pain blocked it all out, as the thoughts and memories flashed across his eyes with acid in his veins.

He quietly tried to crush those thoughts and feelings before they could get any further.

But…

Wait a second… that one memory.

“I just remembered something from when I was in Diagon Alley…” Ryou spoke slowly. It took everything he had not to grit his teeth as he forced himself to focus on even this one memory of the time he’d spent there.

The others looked up at him expectantly, waiting for him to finish.

“There were some Death Eaters that I overheard, I can’t remember exactly what they said, but they were upset that someone was given something by Lord Whatever-“

“Just call him Tom” Ron snickered.

“Tom? Oh, okay then. Anyway, something about a strange… person? Someone in the Death Eaters I’m pretty sure. Apparently, they were keeping something important in their vault for him.”

“Strange?” Harry asked curiously.

“I don’t know, they said something like that,” Ryou said, not wanting to spend longer on this than strictly necessary.

“Lestrange ?” Hermione asked him sharply.

Ryou looked at her with a surprised blink, “Yes, I think so - That sounds right.”

“The Lestrange vault? At Gringotts?” Harry asked.

Ryou nodded, “I— yes, I think so.”

“This is just what we needed, a lead!” Ron pumped his fist.

“We don’t know for sure it’s a Horcrux.” Hermione added quickly, being the voice of reason.

“Yeah true, but it’s a place to start!” Ron grinned.

“Now we just need to come up with a plan to…” Ron’s smile drained off his face, “Break into Gringotts. Oh, bugger. We’re all going to die.”

Marik looked at Ryou curiously at Ron’s reaction, and Ryou gave a slow smile at Ron’s reaction in return.

Still.

From the sound of things, it looked as if Ryou would once again be visiting Diagon Alley. He felt another wave of mixed emotion at that.

Honestly, he would have been happy if he never had to go there again, if he could just scrub that entire period from his memory and from his life. But, it wasn’t the first period of his life he wanted erased. Not even close.

And an even uglier truth started to push itself to the surface as it dawned that they would be planning a break in.

The thief was still a part of him, and he could hear that part just under the surface calling for the challenge once more. And despite himself, and the repulsion he felt towards going back to the scene of his crimes once more, the excitement that part of him felt at the thought of breaking into Gringotts was starting to become infectious. To the point where the pain and venom he’d felt coursing through him just minutes before was starting to be pulled under by the growing anticipation.

And this, he found himself reasoning to himself suddenly, this was for the greater good after all. He could let himself do this. This was the right thing to do, wasn’t it? And he could… let himself loose to some extent without the concern over the morality of his actions.

He wondered if he was just making excuses for himself. If the same part of him begging for the excitement was the same part convincing him it was okay for him to do this.

It was still better than the dreadful feelings he’d had just before about the Alley, Ryou decided, so maybe he could lean into it a bit at least.

“Well actually…” Ryou spoke up, “I spent some time scoping out the bank while I was in Diagon Alley, so I have some ideas about the initial obstacles we’ll end up facing getting in, but if you tell me what you guys know as well about the vaults and how everything there works, in as much detail as you can we might be able to do this.”

“What are you planning?” Harry asked, curiously.

 

“It’s simple,” Ryou said as some of the excitement finally bled over and a small smile graced his lips.

 

“We’re going to rob the bank.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I've been trying to update every 10ish days, but things might be a bit slow for a bit since I have to prep for a potential job interview, while also working extra shifts at my current job to cover for someone as well (and I want to keep my buffer chapters at least 10 chapters ahead...)  
> Sorry if I don't reply to your comments right away as well! I love every single one I get and am really grateful! (my time is just... even more limited for the next while)


End file.
